


Ugly Truths

by Boomchick



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Drama, Family, Gen, Human Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Post-ACC, Reincarnation, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boomchick/pseuds/Boomchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Advent Children, the remnants revive and are instantly found, captured, and imprisoned by the Turks. Cloud is called in to keep an eye on the goings on, both as a favor to the newly-born WRO and to relieve his own fears. But what he finds in the Turk's prison will irrevocably change him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was a prize I promised the winner of a contest on Deviantart. It just so happens that I won that contest, so I just wrote myself something fun. This was originally a one-shot, but it received so much positive attention and had such an open ending that I have decided to continue it. Please enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any of its relations! Please throw all of your money at the official releases like I do.

**Ugly Truths**

"Hey, brother," Kadaj shifted in the manacles that bound him to the wall as he spoke, his bare chest glistening faintly with sweat from his fruitless struggles. "What did you think when you found the Buster sword knocked over?"

Cloud refused to look at him. He stood behind the seated Turk, his arms crossed, and did not shift his gaze from the opposite wall. His heart was hammering in his chest, fury building up just under the surface. He wasn't entirely sure who that fury was directed towards, the remnant of Sephiroth who was still stubbornly alive, or Tseng, sitting impassively in front of him. He'd agreed to be a guard in this meeting more because he had sympathy for Tseng in confronting someone who'd once tortured him than because he was concerned about Kadaj's treatment. But the longer it went on, he wondered if those priorities weren't changing.

"Cloud is not the one you are talking to," Tseng warned, his voice dark. "Answer the question, or you will yet again face the consequences."

"You thought we were monsters, didn't you," Kadaj laughed, his madness shining through in every word, and his filthy hair falling in front of his filth-stained face. "You're wrong, though. You're the monster. You've killed everyone who ever really cared about you. You realize that, don't you?"

Tseng pressed the button in front of him, and the remnant contorted. He made not a sound, but Cloud heard the scream trapped in his throat as electricity coursed through him. His hands spasmed in their bonds, and his body curled in on itself helplessly. His teeth gritted so hard Cloud could hear them grind together with each fresh spasm. When Tseng removed his finger, the remnant went limp in his bonds, sagging there and panting raggedly. Blood dripped from his lips onto the cement floor. It joined the sweat that was all but pouring off him in a growing pool, with little rivulets already trailing down to the drain in the center of the floor. A crazed, burbling laugh wrenched itself from the remnant's throat as he hung there with his hair falling in front of his face and his body still twitching from the shock.

"How did you return," Tseng asked again, still as calm as a pool.

"First Sephiroth," Kadaj choked, "in the reactor. Then Zack who you were too weak to protect, then Aerith who you almost cut down with your own hands. Everyone who died because of meteor—All those lost souls—all your failure, brother."

Tseng pressed the button again, and Cloud closed his eyes. He knew what Kadaj was feeling as the choked cries slid past his grit teeth. Though his memories of the tortures of Hojo's lab were dim and fuzzed, and probably didn't even all belong to him, he still remembered viscerally. It was a horrible thing—it had left his brain blurred, and his stomach churning. But now he stood by as the same torture was repeated on Kadaj, because he was a monster. Because he'd tried to take everything that Cloud ever loved. There was no sympathy for him in Cloud. He tried to force himself to believe that.

"How did you return," Tseng repeated darkly as he lifted his finger once more, leaving the remnant choking for breath. It hadn't escaped Cloud's notice that the amount of time the boy was electrocuted increased with each refusal to speak.

"Then us," Kadaj choked, gasping for air between his words, breaking off to vomit black bile, his body taxed to breaking by the torture, though he was still smiling when he looked up again—the same vicious, empty smile he'd given Cloud so often. "Your brothers. How easy the world must be for you, Cloud, with us as your villains."

Tseng pressed down again, and this time Kadaj screamed, jolting violently in the hold of his chains. There was an ugly pop. Cloud winced, glancing over to see that Kadaj had dislocated his shoulder in his thrashing, and was still jerking helplessly against his bonds, which were themselves transmitting the electricity into him.

Tseng removed his finger, and watched impassively as the remnant retched and gagged, his lips a little blue, though whether it was from the freezing temperature of the room, or being unable to breathe while Tseng's finger was on the button Cloud didn't know. He didn't know if it mattered.

"If this is a ploy," Tseng warned quietly, "And you are trying to get me to kill you so you can pop right back to life, please be aware that isn't happening. I'll be keeping you alive. For years if I must. But only just barely, Kadaj. You'll wish to die every moment of every day until you talk to me, and then, perhaps, I'll let you have a few hours now and then where you do not beg me for the mercy of death."

"So my brothers are alive," Kadaj rasped, coughing heavily and spitting more blood. "Good to know."

Tseng's finger descended in anger after those words. He pressed the button before him so hard that the tip of his finger turned white. Kadaj ran out of breath to scream with, and jerked helplessly in his bonds, his inhuman eyes rolling back in his head and his bared muscles spasming uncontrollably.

"Tseng," Cloud warned, glancing from the Turk to the convulsing boy.

The button was released, and Kadaj went limp once more, giving ragged chokes for breath. His eyes were half lidded, and he didn't seem able to focus them. Cloud watched him, no longer able to keep his gaze on the wall. He looked young, his traitorous mind commented. Young and hurt, like he himself must have looked when Zack saved him. Evil, of course. No one made of so many pieces of Sephiroth could be anything less than evil. And yet here he was, standing by while Shinra tortured him. His stomach twisted.

"I want to be a hero," Zack's voice murmured in his head. "So that I never have to watch anyone get hurt again."

"But that was you," Cloud murmured to himself quietly, trying to quell the voice of his former best friend.

"Who now," Kadaj choked brokenly.

Cloud looked over, studying the boy. His head wasn't even raised. It hung as though it were far to heavy for him to lift it. Drips of sweat were dripping off his face, along with the blood from his lip. Except that Cloud wasn't entirely sure it was all sweat. The little choked sounds he was making sounded less like laughter now. When Tseng reached for the button again to punish the words, Cloud caught his wrist automatically.

"What do you mean?" he asked darkly, watching the remnant carefully. He felt Tseng's annoyed gaze on him, but ignored it.

"In your head," Kadaj rasped, head tilting slowly to the side and looking up at him through dark lashes and eyes full of tears. "Who's talking to you now?"

"The man whose sword your profaned." Cloud answered darkly. "And I'd have killed you ten times for that alone."

"You profaned it first," Kadaj laughed brokenly, his teeth flashing in the dim, flickering light of his own personal dungeon. "Letting it rust like that. How Angeal would have screamed."

"This interview is not about the past," Tseng snapped, removing his hand briskly from Cloud's hold. "Answer the question now, or I'll shock you into oblivion and start asking Loz."

"I already told you," The little hellion snarled, lips pulling back away from his sharp teeth and his nose wrinkling in distaste and hatred, "I don't. Know. Loz doesn't know. Yazoo doesn't know. Ask your Gods or Mother if you want an answer. We've never had a say in anything."

Cloud noticed, as he was sure that Tseng did, that Kadaj was not looking at the Turk as he spoke. He was staring straight into Cloud's eyes, with his monster's gaze. Cloud looked into those eyes, and felt his own change, just a little. He tried to fight it back, but he knew from the way Kadaj's flickered that he'd briefly shown the mark that Sephiroth had left on him. He glanced down at the blood on the remnant's upper lip, where his nose was bleeding.

"Well," Aerith's voice practically sang in his head, "He certainly bleeds like a real person."

"You know what that's like, don't you brother," Kadaj rasped, gazing at Cloud through his dazed eyes. "After all, we used to be-"

"Just the same," Cloud finished quietly, still staring at the boy.

"Mr. Strife, I believe you should remove yourself from this situation at once," Tseng warned darkly. "This is an interrogation, and definitely not a reunion."

"Brother," Kadaj rasped wearily, "At least save Loz and Yazoo. If not me, at least them. They didn't understand. Especially not Loz. And Yazoo never really hurt anyone. It was all me. Always me."

"Your brothers seemed to have few enough qualms about harming Elena and myself," Tseng said darkly.

"You're Turks," Kadaj scoffed. "Why not torture the torturers? That's your method of getting information, isn't it?"

He laughed at Tseng, bloodied teeth flashing. Tseng tapped the button, just long enough to halt the laughter and replace it with a groan.

"He is a manipulative liar. As you well know, Cloud." Tseng warned. "nothing that comes out of his mouth should be trusted."

"They told you they found nothing at the Northern Caves," Kadaj groaned, pleading in his voice. It would have been a whine if not for the honest fear and pain behind the words. "They hid her head from you as surely as they hid it from me, Cloud. Shinra are the liars. I'm insane, and out of control, but I'm not a liar. I've never lied to you. Not once."

"Leave the room, Mr. Strife," Tseng repeated coldly. "I am relatively certain I do not need protection any longer."

His finger was tapping the button lightly, not quite pushing down. Cloud glanced over to Kadaj, watching his wired eyes follow the movement of Tseng's finger. Each time it made contact ever so lightly with the button, a jolt of fear worked its way through the boy. Cloud closed his eyes for a long moment."

"You're right," he muttered. "I'll leave you in peace, Tseng."

"Brother-"choked the remnant, jerking against his bonds before giving a piteous whimper as the movement jolted his dislocated shoulder.

"But I'm taking the remnants with me," Cloud said calmly and flatly, looking neither at Tseng nor at Kadaj. "All of them."

"Absolutely not," Tseng snapped. "They are in Shinra custody-"

"Shinra no longer has any custody to be in," Cloud turned his gaze to the Turk as he spoke. "Or have you forgotten that you've been relegated to a bunch of regular old body guards in charge of nothing more than the president of some random electric company. All military options go through the WRO. Of whom I am head consultant. I'm deeming this case to be out of your hands."

He strode past the Turk without fear. Once he'd have been worried that Tseng would stab him in the back, but that fear haunted him no more. The Turk was powerless against Cloud's status, renown, and otherworldly attributes, and he knew it. One more from him would result in his head being ripped off. Anyone who'd killed Sephiroth as many times as Cloud had could take a single human in one on one combat any day.

He walked over to the remnant, crouching before him. Kadaj's eyes stayed fixed on him, but there was something strange about them. Despite having obviously been trying to gain Cloud's help, the remnant's gaze was one of honest shock. Cloud held it with his own eyes, knowing that they were steady and firm. He'd given up being half-hearted long ago.

"You'll do as I say," he warned darkly, "And go where I go. You're still a prisoner, and I'm not setting you free. But if you follow orders, I'll make sure Shinra never gets their hands on you again."

"Please," Kadaj rasped. It dawned on Cloud that he'd never seen the boy from this close before. His eyes were wide, and greener than Sephiroth's had been. His blood was bright and red, and reeked of iron from so close.

Cloud gripped the manacle on his right arm and forced it open. Then he paused a moment, waiting too be punched at. Instead, Kadaj just curled the arm around himself, still breathing deep and hollowly.

"Cloud," Tseng warned. "He's manipulating you. He'll stab you in the back the moment he gets the chance."

"You know what's been confusing me lately," Cloud murmured as he shifted his attention to Kadaj's other arm. "Why I ever stopped being anything but enemies with the Turks. If you're looking for revenge for him and his brothers torturing you, we'll just say it's payback for one of the thousands of people you killed when you dropped that plate. Or payback for when you slapped Aerith. Either way," he turned to glare at the Turk out of eyes that he knew were glowing. "If I were you, I would go ahead and get your Turks out of the rooms with his brothers."

Tseng clenched his teeth, glaring at Kadaj. Cloud turned back to his work, pulling the manacle apart with a concentrated flare of mako. The kid probably could have broken them himself if not for the mako inhibitors the Turks always pumped their subjects full of. He'd had them in his own system more than once by that point.

"And for the record," he muttered to the remnant. "I did clean the sword."

"Finally." Kadaj muttered back, casting him a weary, broken smile. It dissolved with a whimper as Cloud freed his dislocated arm.

Tseng watched them with clenched teeth, and finally turned to leave the room ahead of them. Cloud knew it wouldn't be the end of it. He was taking away something Tseng wanted, and Turks did not do well with being denied anything, especially information. He didn't let himself dwell on it. He would deal with Tseng when the time came. He wished Marlene hadn't grown a soft spot for the Wutaian man, or he could have just killed him and gotten him out of the way. He wouldn't have, though, because even without Marlene he knew Zack and Aerith would have disapproved.

"Can you stand up?" He asked as he unhooked Kadaj's feet at last.

The remnant surged upwards, briefly, with a burst of energy, then fell instantly back to his knees with a little whimper. He shook his head hard, and Cloud watched his eyes unfocus and focus again. He clenched his dislocated arm to his side with his other hand, gritting his teeth to keep from making a noise. Cloud sighed at the rather pathetic spectacle, and moved over to help him up, only to have his hand slapped away roughly.

"Don't," Kadaj snapped.

"You'd rather stay here?" Cloud muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"I can get up," the prideful remnant insisted, struggling against gravity and the torture he'd just undergone to rise.

Cloud eyed him, then nodded his satisfaction. He turned to walk to the door, keeping an ear on Kadaj even though he wasn't watching. It felt so very wrong to turn his back on someone with silver hair. And yet, this remnant had, at least, been drawn up to the lifestream after his death. That said something for him not being quite as much scum as Sephiroth was.

"Just so we're clear," Cloud muttered, "this doesn't mean I forgive you for all that you've done. Or that I like you. At all."

"Clear enough," Kadaj muttered with a faint wheeze.

Cloud glanced back at him and sighed as he watched the boy waver on his feet. Despite his distaste for the remnant, it wasn't comforting to be reminded of the staggering fall that had precipitated the boy's death. Though Cloud had been kind in that moment, it had been less because Cloud liked Kadaj, and more that he'd been unable to help but think of the other people he'd seen die in his life—people he had loved. When it came down to it, he didn't regret holding the boy when he passed. Not even now that he was back and alive again.

"What am I doing," Cloud sighed softly to himself as he opened the door to the containment cell Kadaj had been locked in. Part of him was surprised to find that Tseng hadn't just locked them both inside.

There was no answer, and he wasn't surprised by that. It seemed that huge portions of his life were undertaken by him simply because there was no one else to do it. He let out a breath of air and straightened his back. This was the right thing to do, he assured himself. Even if Kadaj did turn on him eventually, he'd once sworn he'd never leave another soul to the tender mercies of Shinra's custody. This was his first chance to prove it since saving Nanaki. Not that he'd remembered his own conviction at the time.

"You're daydreaming," Kadaj accused wearily behind him. "I could kill you while you're doing that if I wanted."

"You could try," Cloud answered with a shrug, not bothering to look at him. "But I have a feeling you'd just hurt yourself. I wouldn't even have to help."

"Whatever," The remnant scoffed.

Cloud glanced back to see him toss his hair, then stagger to the side as the movement threw him off balance. He allowed himself a small, wicked smirk at the grimace on the remnant's face, then he sobered. The kid was pale and sweating, still breathing in heavy gasps for breath. His eyes were clenched closed where he leaned against the wall, and from the grey cast to his skin, Cloud could tell he was close to passing out. He sighed, the humor of the moment vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"Let's fetch your brothers." He muttered. "Then I'll have to figure out where to put you all."

Reno was standing outside the door to a room further down the hall. He scowled at Cloud and the remnant tottering unsteadily behind him like a drunken duckling.

"You're nuts, yo," Reno accused, shaking his head sharply. "They're psychos. They'll just stab you in your sleep."

"Just hand whichever one you have over, Reno," Cloud growled, not in the mood for the redhead's antics. "Consider it penance for one of the ten thousand evil things you've done in Shinra's name."

"They tortured the director and Elena," Reno said darkly, even as he ran his key card through the door's reader. "I still plan on returning the favor, even if it's off the clock."

"Threat noted," Cloud waved a hand at him, shooing him out of the way, and pushed the door open.

The slender brother whose name Cloud had never caught was lying on the floor, trails of blood streaming off him from thin, elegant cuts in his skin. The long strips of flesh that had been removed from him were laid out on the table where Reno must have been basing his questioning. There were quite a few of them.

"Yazoo," Kadaj muttered, staggering past Cloud to drop by his brother's side, pushing long silver hair out of the other boy's face.

Reno had taken a slice from the face too, and there was an ugly scab over the portion of the remnant's cheek where it was healing quickly. Cloud shot a glare at the Turk, and received a blank and uninterested stare in return.

"That seems excessive," Cloud commented, not bothering to hide the bitterness from his voice.

"Obviously not," Reno said with a shrug. "Bastard still didn't talk."

"Because he doesn't know," Kadaj snarled from the floor, one hand carefully resting on his brother's upper back, nestled carefully in between cuts. "None of us do. Stupid mother-fucking Turks."

"Let's just get him out of here," Cloud sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. "There's no reasoning with them."

He crouched at Kadaj's side, checking the other remnant's face for himself. The one called Yazoo was ashen, and both his eyes were bruising from what must have been a pretty vicious head-blow, but he was breathing steadily. Cloud shifted his hands under the boy's naked form to lift him, drawing a pained hiss from the unconscious remnant.

"Careful," Kadaj scolded sharply. "If you hurt him, I'll-"

"You'll what," Cloud asked, not even bothering to look up at him as he lifted the slender piece of Sephiroth. "Piss me off so I leave you both here?"

Kadaj fell silent, and bowed his head a little. Cloud just sighed, resettling the bloody remnant in his grip until he had one hand free, and turning to leave the room. The boy hardly weighed anything, and it wasn't hard to balance him in one arm.

"Come on," He called back to Kadaj. "One more to go, and then we can leave."

"You're gunna regret it, Spike," Reno warned as Cloud passed him. "They aren't normal. They aren't savable. You're in over your head this time."

"Right," he responded, uninterested. "I'll make note of that."

He glanced back once, waiting for Kadaj to get to his feet, then turned to walk further down the hall, listening to Kadaj skitter around the livid Turk to follow. Reno's quiet grumbling curses followed him down the hall, and Cloud ignored both them and the hot blood under his hand on the leg of the remnant he was holding. In all honesty, despite all he'd seen in his years, he was struggling very hard not to lose his lunch at the thought of those strips of skin on Reno's table. It was definitely time to stop letting the Turks get anywhere near Denzel and Marlene.

Rude was leaning against the wall further down the hall. His shades were on, and his suit was as impeccable as ever. He looked at Cloud out of the corner of his eye without turning face him, and said nothing. Cloud tried the door and found it already unlocked. He glanced at Rude's frown, and got a bad feeling. He opened the door up quickly, still balancing the willowy Yazoo in his other arm.

The moment the door was open, the sound of ragged crying became apparent. Cloud didn't argue when Kadaj shoved past him to get into the room more quickly, but he did have to stabilize Yazoo with his other hand.

"Oh shit," Kadaj's voice sounded.

"Kaddy?" A teary, thick voice cried, cracking at the edges with what Cloud assumed was pain.

Cloud lifted his gaze and instantly winced. Loz was bound to the chair before the table. His wrists were shackled to the surface. And if Cloud wasn't wrong, all of his fingers were broken. The big remnant was hunched over the table, trembling minutely and beaded in sweat. He jerked against his bonds as Kadaj all but fell over him, still shaking himself from the Turk's rough treatment.

"Guess we'll be dropping by a doctor after all," Cloud muttered as he approached. "I can't heal broken bones."

"You," the big clone hissed, lifting furious, teary eyes to him. "what are you doing here? Kadaj, get behind me!"

"Like you could do anything like this," Kadaj sniped, sounding a little teary himself. "Oh, your poor hands. They just shocked me a little. Why were they so much worse to you?"

"Dunno," Loz sniffled. "why's he here, Kaddy?"

"He's getting us out," Kadaj muttered, tugging ineffectually at the bonds holding Loz to the table. "I don't know where we're going, but anywhere but here would be good. These won't come off!"

"You've got mako inhibitors in your system," Cloud informed mildly. "Otherwise you'd have gotten yourself out of trouble. Back up."

He gripped the manacles one handed and ripped first one then the other off of the table top. Loz whimpered at the touch. His wrists were bloody under the confines. Kadaj grabbed his bigger brother in a one armed hug, and only whimpered a little when his dislocated shoulder was jostled by the hold. In return, Loz grabbed him with his arms and wrists, but kept his broken hands out of the way. Cloud cast a glare back at Rude, but found that the silent Turk had already vanished.

"Let's move," He muttered. "I don't want to give Tseng time to figure out a way to change my mind about this."

Loz rose shakily, letting Kadaj brace himself against his side, but keeping his broken hands close to his chest. Yazoo's head lolled against Cloud's shoulder, and a puff of breath hit his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He tried to shake the feeling that he was holding a big cat that might at any moment rip his throat out, but the mental image stubbornly stayed put. With a sigh, he started walking towards the exit to the building. Loz and Kadaj trailed behind him, murmuring soft words to each other now and then, but mainly just 'sorry's as one or the other nudged his brothers injuries. He was keenly aware of the fact that both of them were keeping a very close eye on the remnant he was holding. He let that pass, struggling to come to terms with exactly who it was that he was saving.

He opened the door out of the Turk offices and held it open for the remnants. As they passed him, Kadaj reached out to touch Yazoo's leg lightly, and Loz started to do the same before whimpering softly as he remembered that his hands were broken, withdrawing the started touch. Cloud let them both pass, and fell in behind them, shifting Yazoo in his grip and wincing at how slippery his hand was getting with his blood. Ahead of him, Kadaj twitched at Loz's side, pausing briefly as he swayed unsteadily, before bracing himself on his older brother. Loz just sniffled softly, hunching his shoulders a little, and twisting his brows as he looked down at his brother.

Cloud shook his head just a little at the mess he had gotten himself into. He set aside all his doubts and worries, and pulled out his phone, pressing the first speed dial.

"Tifa?" he started once he heard her pick up on the other end. "I could use a pickup out at Shinra. I don't think I can fit everyone on Fenrir."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cloud set Yazoo on his bed, still bleeding. The slender remnant let out a breathy groan as he touched the soft surface, his head lolling wearily, showing the ugly scab on his cheek.

"Would you move?" Kadaj hissed from behind him. "Or do you have to stare at him all day?"

"Watch your mouth," Cloud said coldly, though he stepped back from the bed. "Don't forget that you're only here on our charity."

Kadaj ignored him. He moved forward swiftly, with Loz all but glued to his side, and sat next to Yazoo on the bed. He was still shaking and twitching after the prolonged electrocution, and his nosebleed hadn't completely stopped yet. His eyes looked particularly green on the background of burst blood-vessels in the whites of his eyes.

Loz had tears on his cheeks, and his hands were still held close against his chest. He stared at Cloud any time he moved, eyes intense with a mixture of fear and rage. Cloud was well aware it was protectiveness, and so he let it pass. That, and he couldn't stand to look at the twisted fingers on the big remnant's hands. It was an ugly sight.

"Cloud," Tifa said from the doorway, where she stood with her hands on her hips. "Can we have a word?"

"No leaving the room," Cloud instructed Kadaj firmly. "No destruction of property, and no escape attempts. Got it?"

"It look like we're going anywhere?" the kid snarled, glaring at Cloud through his messy hair.

Cloud stared back, his eyes firm and intense as he glared Kadaj down. The littler remnant held out a while, glaring back, before another shiver worked through him and he gave a little shuddering cough. His eyes averted submissively at the sign of weakness and he turned his attention back to his unconscious brother.

"We won't do anything," he muttered, running shaking fingers over the sweaty forehead of his bleeding brother.

"Good." Cloud snapped. "Work on the attitude while I'm talking to Tifa."

He turned and left the room without waiting for Kadaj to snap at him or object. He tried to ignore the frightened look that Loz cast after him, and the way he pressed himself against Kadaj's back. The doctor couldn't get there soon enough for Cloud's taste. The sooner they were healed up, the sooner he could look at the situation with a clear head, and see the monsters they were instead of the victims they'd so recently become.

Tifa waited for him to close the door, her brown eyes serious and dark, and her lips pulled into a deep frown. Without a word, she turned and walked to the top of the stairs, farther from the doorway, despite the fact that the boys were so drugged on Mako inhibitors they couldn't hear any farther than Marlene or Denzel would have been able to. Cloud followed her without complaint. He could tell the moment she drove up in the truck that this was not going to be something hey agreed easily on.

"Cloud," she said, her eyes steady as she stared at him. "They are not staying in my bar."

"I didn't know where else to bring them."

"How about a prison?" Her voice was dark as she spoke, and her hands lifted from her hips to cross stubbornly in front of her. "They have doctors there too, you know. There are children living here, Cloud. Children those three have already hurt enough."

"They're not going to touch the kids," Cloud said firmly, trying to take control of the situation and put Tifa somewhat at ease.

"Damn right they're not," she snapped, her eyes tightening at the corners and her jaw clenching briefly. "Because they're not staying her a minute more than it takes for a doctor to bandage them up. I don't care what you do with them after that."

"They've got nowhere to go," Cloud said softly. "The Turks were torturing them, Tifa, I couldn't just ignore that."

"I know," she said with a huff. "And I admire you for that, but if you really feel like our little family needs a few troubled teenagers I know a few orphanages we could go and check out before we have to go digging around in prison cells looking for them."

"Tifa-"

"They attacked me," she snapped, interrupting him. "Attacked the kids. They killed innocent people, summoned monsters to attack our city, destroyed countless businesses, blew up the statue to commemorate meteor fall, injured our allies, tried to destroy the world, and let's not forget that after all that they killed you."

Cloud waited a beat, watching Tifa closely. There was rage and stress in her gaze, and he knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to win this argument. He shouldn't even try. It was her place, after all. He ran a little side business out of her upstairs, but this bar was hers—Not only her home, but her dream.

"As soon as the doctor's gone," he promised softly, "I'll get them out of the house. The kids don't even have to know they were here."

"Except for the new bloodstains on my nice floor," Tifa said darkly.

"Tifa, the kid's bleeding," Cloud sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "Cut him a little slack."

"You can't tell me you've forgotten what they are."

"I haven't forgotten anything," Cloud said softly and firmly. "I know what they are, and what they've done. I've laid out the rules. If they break them, I'll handle it."

"They should be in a cell, Cloud." Her hands uncrossed slowly as she spoke, settling on her hips again. "Where they can't do anyone any harm."

"Loz, shut up," a voice hissed from down the hall, interrupting Cloud's reply.

He turned towards the door, waving Tifa to quiet as he listened closely. There was shuffling inside the room—someone moving around anxiously—and now that he was paying attention he found it easy to hear their voices. A quick glance at Tifa revealed that however enhanced she was, it was enough to pick up on the conversation as well.

"You should go, Kadaj," Loz was whispering furtively. "There's a window right there. And only one of your arms is hurt. You could make it out, start running-"

"I said no, Loz," Kadaj retorted sharply. "Now shut up. You heard what Cloud said."

"I can't believe you're listening to him," Loz's voice hissed with an edge of a sob. "He killed you, Kaddy! You have to get out of here!"

There was a sudden and very loud thump. Cloud was in motion before he could think, open in the door swiftly to find Kadaj straddling his bigger brother, pinning him to the floor with a trembling arm. He was grasping Loz's shoulder tightly, but still carefully avoided his broken hands.

"You shut up," Kadaj hissed right into his brother's face. "You do as he tells you, and you do as I tell you. Do you understand? This isn't our game anymore, brother. We lost. Best we get from here is the nicest prison we can find, and this is it. No more talk of running, no more telling me what to do, and never suggest we split up again. Do you understand?"

Cloud stood in the doorway, watching the younger boy threatening his huge brother with wide eyes. The madness was back in Kadaj's gaze. He looked wired and furious, and despite the fact that he was so much smaller than Loz, Cloud was not at all surprised that it didn't seem to cross the pinned remnant's mind to simply throw him off.

A moment passed. Kadaj's fingers dug into Loz's shoulder, and Cloud could see the kid's good arm trembling as he struggled to hold himself above his brother, too far weakened and too hurt to do more than withstand the position. Loz himself gazed up at his brother in surprise, blinking wide eyes at the younger remnant. Then the tension in the air shifted, and the elder brother let out a piteous sniffle from beneath Kadaj, tears welling in his eyes.

"Don't cry," Kadaj huffed, sitting up slowly and taking the weight off his obviously hurting arm. "You're getting someone to fix your fingers, what more do you want."

"I just want you safe, Kaddy," Loz whispered, still laying on the ground where Kadaj left him, tears rolling back into his hair from luminous eyes.

"We are safe," Kadaj insisted firmly, turning to Cloud abruptly, though he'd ignored him completely till that moment. "Long as we follow the rules, we don't get handed back to the Turks, right?"

Cloud nodded seriously in agreement, keeping his eyes on Kadaj's. The flare of insanity he'd seen in his eyes had once again dissipated, like a mirage. He wondered if it wasn't his own expectations of the boy that had made him think it was there in the first place.

"Then there's no problem." Kadaj insisted, rubbing his dislocated shoulder lightly.

He paused in his motion, looking at his bare arm. Bright red burns were etched around his wrists from the manacles that had electrocuted him, and branching down from that burn were more—marks like lightning that streaked down his forearm. He frowned at them, and turned his gaze away again, stumbling over to sit on the bed next to Yazoo again. His eyes unfocused briefly again, and he wavered there before steadying himself.

Loz sat up slowly and carefully. He kept his hands away from the the floor, struggling to rise without them. Cloud more felt Tifa walk away at the sound of the doorbell than watched her. The three boys were attention-consuming. Kadaj's pallor had gone from pale to grey again, and he looked like he might be sick at any moment, but Loz didn't approach him to offer comfort again. He stood a little to the side, sniffling and crying, and trying to wipe the tears away with his sleeve as they came. If Kadaj noticed the crying through his haze, he didn't comment on it.

"Yazoo's still not wakin' up," Loz finally rasped through his tears.

"He's been bleeding too much," Kadaj said distractedly, shaking his head a little.

Cloud noticed another of the lightning-shaped burns stretching around his neck as his hair moved. It was vivid, stretching up to the base of his ear and down almost to his collar bone. He couldn't see where it started. He'd taken the mark on his chest for dried blood at first, and suddenly felt a strange stab of worry for the remnant. He hadn't been there when Tseng was binding him. He might have missed some injury on the boy.

"Is he gunna die?"

"No one's dying, Loz," Kadaj sighed, closing his eyes wearily and slowly sagging. Even Cloud could see he was fighting to hold onto consciousness.

"What if he does?" the big remnant whispered softly, staring at his willowy brother.

"Then we'll jump off a bridge or something. Shut up, would you? You're making my headache worse."

Cloud moved forward slowly, aware that the moment he moved both brothers had their attention fixed on him. He walked over to Kadaj slowly, not meeting his hazy eyes until he was right in front of him.

"I'm going to look at the back of your neck," he warned. "Hold still."

"Shit," Kadaj whispered, before slowly closing his eyes and lowering his head.

Cloud shifted his hair carefully, grimacing at the almost slimy feel to it. They all desperately needed showers. He paused briefly as the boy gave a horrible shiver, and fought back the urge to reassure him. He knew it would be hell for the kid to hold still. He wasn't sure how much of telling him to do so was in order for him to look at the injury, and how much of it was to see if the boy would obey.

Once the shivering fit had passed and the boy had control of himself again, Cloud moved his hair away completely, pinning it out of the way with his other hand. In the base of Kadaj's neck was a thin metal spike, sinking deep into his flesh and keeping a ring of metal in place. A small light was on top, blinking slowly at him.

"It's just a tracking device," Kadaj whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Thought you wouldn't take me if you knew the Turks would follow."

Cloud shifted, reaching down to touch the spike of metal.

"Don't-" Kadaj started, stiffening under his hands.

The word was a beat too late. Cloud touched the spike, and the boy he was inspecting jolted, giving an ear-splitting shriek and convulsing, thrashing back against Cloud's hands, and tumbling off the bed helplessly. Loz gave a hollow gasp and pressed against the wall. Yazoo shifted on the bed with a sigh. Cloud stumbled back, staring down in horror at the boy writhing in pain on the floor. The fit lasted a solid thirty seconds before Kadaj finally went limp, a sobbing trembling wreck.

"Kadaj?" Loz whispered quietly.

"Shit," Kadaj choked again, struggling to rise.

He only lifted himself an inch before his stomach rebelled and he retched, throwing up dark bile onto the hardwood floor. He gagged, twitched, and threw up again, still giving little jerks every other moment as the backlash of the shock worked its way through him. He gave a hollow gasp for air in between gagging fits, but it obviously wasn't enough, and he started to sag again.

Cloud moved before he could drop face-first into his own vomit, catching the kid around the stomach and bracing his chest on his free hand, holding him in place while his stomach emptied itself on the floor and the kid half-suffocated himself. Loz's helpless sobs became a background noise as Kadaj retched and struggled for air. Finally he went still in Cloud's grip, breathing raggedly. Tears dripped off his nose onto the wet ground, and he was shivering worse than when Cloud first rescued him.

"I'm sorry," Cloud murmured softly, meaning the words completely. "Didn't realize it would do that."

"S-" Kadaj broke off, giving a low moan of pain before pulling himself together again. "Serves you right. Th' mess..."

"Having to clean it up?" Cloud guessed, his stomach dropping at the slurred words slipping from the boy. "Yeah, it does."

Cloud shifted his grip, lifting Kadaj carefully and setting him back in his sitting position on the bed. Kadaj wavered in place, swaying a little before bracing himself on his good arm. His eyes were half-lidded, and he had bile in his hair and on his lips. He didn't seem to care. Cloud pulled out the cloth he usually kept around in case he needed to clean his goggles off while riding his bike, and carefully cleaned the boy up. He was prepared for Kadaj to bite his fingers for the action, and wouldn't have reprimanded him if he had. Instead the remnant held obediently still for him, breathing heavily through parted lips and staring at nothing at all.

"So a tracking device, huh?" Cloud muttered, trying to ignore the furious look that he knew Loz was sending him.

"Yeah," Kadaj whispered raggedly. "Gunna be a bitch."

"You're going to be a bitch, or getting it off of you is going to be?" Cloud asked rather suspiciously.

Kadaj just gave him a blank look of non-comprehension.

"Would you just leave him alone?" Loz finally snapped from behind Cloud. "You've hurt him enough! And he doesn't like just anybody touching him."

Cloud backed a few paces away obediently. It was becoming obvious that Loz would be a problem, but he was willing to let the open aggression and distaste slide for now. He wasn't going to argue with the big remnant when both of his brothers were suffering, and the guilt in his chest for hurting the kid hadn't dissipated with a simple apology.

Loz moved over once there was free space and settled in beside Kadaj again, any anger or discomfort from before forgotten. He pressed their heads together gently, obviously longing to hold his little brother properly. Cloud turned his back on the display of affection and went to find the mop. At least he knew they had all the equipment to clean up vomit. He had to do it in the bar at least once every two weeks.

"Cloud?" Tifa asked, pausing on the stairs when she saw him.

He glanced down, took one look at the doctor behind her, and clenched his fists.

"Take off the coat," he said to the dark-haired woman following Tifa, not masking the chill in his voice.

"My coat?" the doctor looked downwards, inspecting herself with a frown. "What's wrong with it?"

Cloud inhaled slowly, fighting back the urge growing in the back of his mind. White coats and stethoscopes—they were torture tools. Preliminary sights before blood and Mako, right before the agony started. They were things to be killed. They were things that monsters wore.

"Just take it off," Tifa said quickly, her words pulling Cloud out of his slowly worsening mental spiral. "Let's just say it brings up bad memories. You can hang it in the closet."

Cloud turned his head away as the woman frowned and shrugged off the white mantle. He hated doctors.

"You might want to wait for me to clean up in there," he muttered, not looking back at the woman, even now that she was no longer adorned to suit her station.

"I work in the medical field," the woman said firmly, handing her coat to Tifa and sliding her stethoscope back around her neck. "I've seen every kind of mess there is. Just take me to my patients."

Cloud was slightly surprised to find himself doing just that. It wasn't just that she had made sense—there was an aura of command about her that every piece of him that was a soldier responded to. He glanced back at Tifa, startled and slightly bewildered as to where she'd come up with this woman. Tifa just gave him a smile that was ever so slightly sly. He imagined that she was quietly reminding him that she could keep secrets too.

He intended to warn the boys not to touch the doctor before so much as letting her step foot in the room. Upon reaching the doorway, she changed his plans by brushing straight past him and walking over to Loz and Kadaj, stepping neatly around the pool of vomit on the floor.

"Hi," She said sweetly to Loz, giving him a faint, worried smile. "How's he doing?"

Loz seemed taken aback. He blinked at the woman, then looked to Kadaj, studying the slightly grey cast of his brother's skin. His eyes flickered back to Cloud in confusion, giving him a hopelessly bewildered look.

"That's some pretty fierce electric damage," she muttered, crouching to look at the new, searing-red burn that stretched around Kadaj's neck.

"He did it," Loz rasped, gesturing to Cloud with a twisted, broken finger.

The woman's eyes followed the motion of his hand. Cloud saw a slight twitch along the outside of her right eye, but she covered it quickly with a warm smile. When Loz looked back, it was to the woman giving him a reassuring, affectionate gaze.

"It's going to be okay," she said softly, before he could react. "I can see you're very protective. Is it alright if I look your brothers over? I want to make sure neither of them is in danger."

Loz nodded automatically in response. Though the tears hadn't stopped falling since Cloud first saw him, he seemed bizarrely calmer now, with a doctor there in front of him. It flew in the face of everything Cloud had suspected about them.

"Thank you," the woman replied sweetly, giving him a warm smile and turning her eyes to the barely-awake Kadaj. "My name is Irene. If you have any questions while I work, you can ask them, but don't interrupt, okay?"

Cloud leaned against the doorway, watching in slight wonder as Irene gently ran her fingers over the dazed Kadaj's face, inspecting his eyes. She didn't even flinch at seeing them up close. Cloud again wondered where Tifa had found her. It wasn't every day a doctor saw a patient with slit-pupils and didn't freak out.

Kadaj went limp halfway through her examination, but she just caught him gently and lay him on his side. She checked the back of his neck, but didn't even come close to touching. Loz watched her like a bird of prey, his inhuman eyes intense and fierce. But he never seemed to so much as consider interfering with her examination.

"This goes down into his spinal column," she said softly, angling her head back towards Cloud and Tifa. "I wouldn't recommend trying to take it out without surgery."

"No," Loz said abruptly, giving his head a sharp shake. "No surgery."

"We'll discuss other options when I'm done with the initial checkups, okay?" she said sweetly, not giving Cloud time to step in. "I need to look at your other brother for now. What's his name?"

"Yazoo," Loz said, calming once again at her reassurance and shifting out of the way as she moved to the middle remnant.

She took a long time looking him over. He was limp and unresistant as she moved him, inspecting each and every cut in his flesh. Tifa stepped a little closer to Cloud, frowning at the damage on Yazoo's body.

"Who-" She whispered softly.

"Reno," Cloud replied automatically. "And your friend Rude's the one who broke Loz's hands."

"They did terrible things to their friends," Tifa reminded Cloud quietly. "Turks don't make a secret out of their taste for revenge."

Cloud didn't reply.

"Alright," Irene announced. "Looks like he's lost a lot of blood, but I don't think he's in any danger. Once the Mako inhibitors wear off, he'll recover in no time. There will be some scarring, though. Not enough skin left in the cuts for them to heal together without growing new skin."

"On his face too?" whispered Loz, his brows twisting sorrowfully.

"It won't be bad," Irene said, "but he will have a scar there. What's important is that he'll be okay, right?"

Loz nodded slowly, staring at his pretty brother's face, and the ugly scab on his cheek. He took a shuddering breath, then let it out slowly and steadily. The tears dried on his face as he steadied himself at her reassurance.

"I'm going to set your fingers now, and make sure they're stable." She looked up at him, meeting his eyes and sitting lightly beside him on the bed. "It's going to hurt like hell. Do you want pain killers?"

"I'm fine," Loz said quietly, slowly extending his hands to her without looking away from his little brothers. "Just put them back together."

Cloud flinched at the first crack of bone as Irene snapped Loz's first finger back into place. Tifa muttered something softly about going to make some tea and slipped out of the room quietly. Cloud didn't blame her. The smell of the mess on the floor didn't help the stomach-churning nature of the sound. Loz barely twitched, keeping his eyes averted from the woman and letting her do her work without complaint.

By the time she was finished, Loz was shaking again. His fingers were red and trembling behind their splints. His eyes were closed tight, but still dry of tears. Exhaustion was obviously setting in.

"Alright," Irene said softly, wrapping his final splint. "You're all set."

Loz didn't respond aloud. He wavered slightly, then slowly leaned over. He settled between his two brothers, laying on his back with his newly bound hands on his chest. He let out a long, weary breath, sagging back on the bed. Irene watched him settle silently from the bedside. Only when the eldest remnant's breathing evened out and he joined his brothers in exhausted rest did she stand.

"Let's go downstairs," She sighed. "There's a lot to talk about."

Cloud stepped aside to let her pass, but hesitated himself. He looked over at the boys, studying their weary, sleeping faces. They were disturbingly human. All three had dark circles under their eyes. Drying tears, drying blood, and drying vomit scented the room. They looked gaunt, and sick, and heart-breaking. Cloud found himself walking across the room slowly. He stopped by the bed, looking down at them, then slowly reached down and brushed Kadaj's hair out of his face. His fingers brushed lightly over the warm skin of the boy's forehead, and Cloud jerked his hand away as though he'd been burned.

He followed Irene downstairs quickly, shaking his hand and wiping his fingers off on his pants leg. Irene was sitting at the bar, hunched over slightly. She'd let her hair down, and the grey streaking through her dark locks was even more evident with it falling lose around her shoulders. Tifa returned from behind the bar and set a bottle of scotch and a glass in front of Irene.

"They are royally fucked up," Irene commented wearily, pouring herself a glass.

"How bad?" Cloud asked, walking over and sitting a couple of bar stools away.

"I assume you're aware that their injuries are from torture," Irene said coldly, downing a shot of her scotch and pouring herself another.

"I am."

"Well, whoever was doing it knew what they were doing. Those boys are royally fucked up, and healing physically will only be the first step to recovery. If they can do that."

"I thought you said they'd be okay." Tifa said, polishing one of her glasses with a faintly obsessive motion.

"Physically, probably." Irene sighed. "Emotionally they are going to be all shades of fucked up. And that's not mentioning the tracking device."

"You said it would need surgery to get it out." Tifa said, pouring another glass of scotch for Irene without comment. "Can't we just let it run out of batteries?"

"I wish." Irene said softly. "If I'm not wrong, you have two choices—You can live with him having a tracking device that apparently has a nasty electric shock, or you can keep him on Mako inhibitors."

"How would that help?" Cloud muttered, leaning against the counter, scowling to himself.

"That tracking thing? It runs on Mako power," Irene said with a scowl. "If his blood has its natural Mako levels, it'll power the damned thing itself. Only way to keep him from getting shocked every time someone touches his neck is to keep him weakened and on the inhibitors."

"That's sick," Cloud said softly, staring at the woman.

"All hail the Turks." Irene sighed. "No one knows how to fuck someone up like them."

"So what do we do?" Tifa asked with a scowl. "I understand why you'd feel affectionate towards them, Irene, but I don't want the in my house."

"Give them at least a day," Irene said softly, lifting pleading eyes to Tifa. "I promise you they won't be waking up or wrecking havoc for the next twenty four hours. They're all of them exhausted, and their hurt isn't minor. Besides, if I'm not mistaken your gentleman friend here will be keeping a close eye on them. I doubt there's anyone better capable of keeping them in check."

Cloud averted his eyes from her gaze. Something about the way Irene said it and he gleam in her eyes told him that she was not at all pleased that he was capable.

"Why are you fond of them?" Cloud asked with a soft mutter. "They're clones—remnants of the monster who almost destroyed everything."

He wasn't expecting the shot glass that flew right beside his right ear before shattering on the wall behind him. He stared at the furious look on Irene's face as she sat at the bar, her arm still lifted from flinging her half-full glass at him. She slowly picked up the bottle and took a brisk swig.

"I'm grateful you saved the world," she said slowly and purposefully. "But if you speak like that about General Sephiroth or any of those boys in there, I won't miss next time."

Cloud stared. He'd known there were some people out there who still believed in Sephiroth. Even some who believed that the general was right to try and destroy the world. But he'd certainly never run into anyone who wasn't a Turk who was still willing to confront him in anything resembling a violent encounter.

"And another thing," she said, pointing sharply at him. "There's no such thing as a remnant. Those boys are flesh and blood, and if they believe that they aren't more than Sephiroth's remains, then it's just a sign of the amount of psychological damage that's been done to them."

"But they just showed up," Cloud said, shaking his head. "Tseng said it was like they just appeared out of the Northern Crater."

"And you always believe Turks, of course," Irene scoffed. "Even if that's true, did you ever so much as think to ask them where they come from? Because I'm here to tell you that they are flesh and blood, and that in all my years of medical service I have learned that things like that just don't spring out of nowhere. Especially not fifteen to eighteen year old boys."

Cloud's jaw clenched. The woman stared at him fixedly with her grey eyes blazing. She rose slowly, shoving the bottle back to Tifa behind the bar.

"I'll take my coat back, please," She said firmly and darkly. "I think I had best be on my way."

"Who are you?" Cloud asked slowly. "Where did Tifa find you?"

"I'm Doctor Irene Mathis." She answered, snatching her white coat from Tifa as it was handed to her. "Former field doctor for Shinra's Soldier division, and the in-combat physician of choice for General Sephiroth, as requested by the General himself."

She whirled and walked to the door. Cloud stared at her from behind, feeling memories build behind his eyes. Time seemed to slow with each decisive step she took. The greying hair that hung lank and messy to the base of her neck, he remembered as curly and cocoa brown. In his memory she strode away more slowly, smiling warmly. The moment the image solidified, he remembered her in a rush.

Smiling, and young, and sweet, she would show up at the general's apartment mere minutes after Zack himself got there. She'd fuss over whatever marks Hojo had left on him, despite the fact that they were already well on the way to healing. The general rarely smiled—almost never—but Zack's memory showed a glimmer of fondness in the great General's eyes as he watched Irene. It made Cloud's stomach twist.

As the door closed, he turned away quickly, ignoring Tifa when she called after him. The memory of Sephiroth's face made him want to throw up. Especially combined with having to face his clones all day long. He walked briskly upstairs and to the bathroom, planning to wash his mouth out. His plan changed when the sound of quiet tears from inside made him pause.

He opened the door slowly, and flinched at the scent of urine in the air. He opened the door briskly, and stared at the large remnant sitting curled in the bathtub. Loz had his face hidden behind his wrapped hands, and at a glance Cloud realized what had happened. He let out a slow sigh, unable to bring himself to be so much as annoyed. Another sob wracked the remnant's frame, and his bandaged hands trembled.

"Loz?" Cloud asked quietly.

The silver-haired boy curled in on himself. He gave a pained whimper, and shivered harder still.

"It's alright," Cloud sighed, walking over towards him. "Come on. Stand up. I'll help you out of your pants."

"I couldn't—" Loz rasped, tears making his voice thick and garbled.

"I know," Cloud answered instantly, watching the remnant shake, and trying not to let himself gag at the smell. "Your hands are broken. Makes it hard to work a fly."

Loz lifted his gaze slowly. His eyes were huge and watery. He was pale, and his lips were parted to allow him to pant for air. Cloud held still while he was inspected. Then Loz dropped his hands from in front of his face and braced his forearms against the tub, struggling to his feet. Cloud let him do it on his own. He knew the shame that could come with being incapacitated.

"I'm sorry," Loz whispered as he straightened.

"It happens," Cloud said.

He stripped the boy of his wet pants as quickly as he could without making it difficult or uncomfortable for him. He tried not to pay attention to the little shamed sobs working their way out of the young man's mouth. Once he was stripped, Cloud had to help him out of the tub. Loz removed himself from the touch the first moment he could, hunching in on himself and backing away from Cloud, averting his eyes.

"Go back to bed, Loz," Cloud instructed. "You and your brothers are staying until tomorrow."

"Oh," Loz whispered, staring down at his bare feet as he covered himself with his bandaged hands.

Cloud turned away, standing by the door to the bathroom as Loz left the room. He watched the boy halfway down the hall, then turned back to clean up the tub, feeling faintly grateful that at least the kid had thought to wet his pants there rather than on the floor.

"Cloud?" Loz's soft voice whispered in the hallway.

Cloud peered out again, lifting an eyebrow.

"Thank you," Loz whispered, color rising in his cheeks in embarrassment.

"You're welcome," Cloud replied automatically.

They both turned away once more, and Cloud flicked on the shower, hosing out the bathtub briskly. It wasn't until he was done with his task that he realized his nausia had vanished. He gave a little smile despite himself, hanging the shower head back on its hook. Annoying as it may have been to have to keep the boys in his home, helping Loz seemed to have come at a good time for him. Something about a little heroic action always settled his stomach.

He stationed himself at the opening of the stairway and settled in. It would be a while still before the kids got home. He'd have to explain to them what was going on, and why the people who had hurt them were in the spare room. He could only hope that Marlene's natural empathy would temper Denzel's unbridled want for revenge. After that, they'd go to bed, and Tifa would open her bar, and he would clean up the mess in the spare room and hope he didn't wake the trio of psychopaths sleeping on the bed. If he could get the image of Sephiroth smiling out of his head before he was left alone to guard their enemies for the long night, he would count it as a victory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for the delay on this chapter, my friends. Thank you for your patience and support! To warn you, there is a graphic depiction of torture in this chapter, thanks to some of my readers who requested something a little more in-depth regarding how Yazoo was injured. You will not be missing any important clues or secrets if you skim that particular part of the story, should you find it particularly unpleasant or uncomfortable.
> 
> Much love from me to you! I will try to make chapter 4 come more swiftly than chapter 3 did...

**Chapter 3**

 

All three of the remnants were still asleep when Cloud walked back in to brave the room the next morning. He was holding one of Tifa's serving trays with breakfast for all three boys balanced on it. It wasn't a marvel of cooking—Tifa had refused to cook for their guests, so it had been left up to Cloud—but it would provide some sustenance at least. One of the pre-measured injections of mako inhibitors Irene left for him weighed heavy in his pocket, ready to be used on the youngest remnant. After he woke up, Cloud promised himself quietly. After he'd been told what was happening to him.

The three sleeping remnants didn't move as Cloud set down the tray of eggs, toast and water on the bedside table. He took the moment to observe them. He eyed the way Kadaj and Loz had gravitated closer to Yazoo during the night. The three of them seemed to have found the perfect ways to fit together. Their legs were interlocked, unconsciously. In the back of Cloud's mind, a little voice whispered that it would have made them hard to separate while they slept, and wasn't that smart if it had been a danger to them before?

He shook away the thoughts and cleared his throat. The effect it had was underwhelming. Kadaj shifted just a little, arching his back before snuggling closer to Loz. The elder brother barely moved, giving the quietest of grunts as Kadaj shifted against him. Yazoo still lay limp and relaxed. Cloud was beginning to worry about that one, but so far as he knew it might have been normal for the willowy brother to sleep like a rock.

With a sigh, he glanced down at the floor that he'd cleaned the night before, shaking his head at the stains. It was his own fault for waiting until the middle of the night to follow through and clean up, but it was still annoying. Tifa would be displeased. She wouldn't like the permanent reminder of who had slept in this room.

The kids had reacted even worse than he had thought they would when they came home for the evening. Denzel heard the first word about the brothers, and instantly refused to stay in the house. In the end, Tifa had called Barret and asked him to take both the children for the night until Cloud could 'get rid' of their visitors. Marlene hadn't said anything at all. She had just dropped to her knees on the floor and cried until her father came to pick her and Denzel up. Cloud's guilt had flared its ugly head again, but he held it at bay for the sake of not making matters worse. If he showed Tifa that he was guilty for making things hard on the kids, she might be able to convince him to take the boys back to the Turks.

It was a near thing anyway. Three times that night he had pulled out his phone, about to call Tseng and apologize for his temporary insanity. But the memory of the ugly lightning-shaped burns on Kadaj, and Loz's mangled fingers, and Yazoo's blood-drenched body kept him from following through. Whether he could hold out with them awake and dangerous was a different question, to be faced in the daylight.

He only realized that he was still standing awkwardly by the bedside, staring down at the boys, when someone else cleared their throat. He blinked, and was suddenly aware of the fact that Kadaj was very much awake, and giving him a very strange look. Cloud quickly averted his gaze, shifting his feet. It wasn't a submissive motion so much as a silent admission that he'd been caught staring.

“Isn't it polite to say 'good morning?'” Kadaj drawled with an intentionally obnoxious tone in his voice.

“No one ever said I was going to be polite to you,” Cloud said with a shrug. “There's breakfast. You should eat.”

“Not interested,” Kadaj yawned, stretching in Loz's arms.

“You're still healing,” Cloud said, raising an eyebrow slowly at him. “It's not poisoned.”

“I can eat, right?” Loz rumbled behind Kadaj, yawning hugely. “I'm starving.”

“I dunno, can you?” The littlest remnant asked grumpily, shoving himself into a sitting position, rubbing his messy hair and grimacing as he found it tangled with dry sweat. “You haven't got any hands.”

Cloud felt a headache building the moment Loz gave a soft sniffle at Kadaj's words. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd expected from the remnants in terms of interaction with one another, but he had never expected that they would not get along. And yet there Kadaj was, looking inordinately proud of the fact that he'd made his injured brother cry.

“That's enough out of both of you,” he said firmly, trying to remind himself that he'd chosen to take these boys in. “It's going to be a long day, and frankly I don't care if you don't bother to eat before it gets started. Just don't complain about being hungry later.”

“We don't complain.” Kadaj said coldly, his inhuman eyes sliding over to Cloud.

There it was again, Cloud thought to himself. There was insanity in Kadaj's gaze again. He could never get a bead on it. It flickered and vanished like a thought, and he doubted, briefly, whether he'd really seen it there at all. His own perception had so often been wrong.

“Your brother still hasn't woken up?” Cloud asked after a moment, uneasy with the way Kadaj was still looking at him.

The distraction was instant and complete. Both Kadaj and Loz switched their attention to their third brother. Cloud studied their expressions. The looks weren't exactly what he would have expected from concerned brothers. Loz looked worried, certainly, but in a bewildered, confused way that implied he was not used to worrying. Kadaj just looked... Uncertain. There was concern written on his face, but Cloud was uncertain as to whether that concern was really for his brother, or if it was for himself.

It occurred to Cloud suddenly that he knew very little about Yazoo. The only interactions he'd had with the boy were manic and hurried. He'd heard stories from Reno and Rude. Apparently the slim remnant had managed to drive his motorcycle _through_ their helicopter, laughing wildly all the way. Marlene had also informed him that Yazoo was 'creepy,' though she had never elaborated, and Cloud had never pushed the issue. Suddenly, he was seized with the urge to go catch up with her and Denzel and find out what he would be facing when the slender teenager woke up. The uncertainty on Kadaj's face was not comforting. If the psycho felt uneasy about what was awaiting them when his brother woke up, Cloud was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't have gotten enough mako inhibitors from Irene for all three of them.

“He'll... Wake up when he's ready,” Loz muttered after a moment. “Right, Kadaj?”

“He usually does whatever he wants,” Kadaj agreed with a shrug.

“Well, either way, we need to have all three of you in the car by noon.” Cloud said firmly and rather coldly. “Tifa's hospitality ran thin about five seconds after you got here.”

“Our apologies for existing,” Kadaj sneered, his eyes cutting over towards Cloud. “Where are you taking us?”

“Rocket Town,” Cloud answered with a shrug. “Cid's got a little place he'll be letting me keep you. Unlike most of my friends, he doesn't hold much of a grudge against you three.”

“A _grudge_ ” Loz argued with a sharp frown. “We're the ones who ought to have a grudge. You killed us!”

“Technically, I only killed Kadaj,” Cloud said calmly, refusing to let himself get riled. “You and Yazoo killed yourselves trying to get to me. Though I suppose Rude's bomb had something to do with it.”

“Meanie,” Loz muttered to himself, tearing up and scowling, turning his back on Cloud.

“Oh shut up, Loz,” Kadaj muttered, his eyes resting once more on Cloud, with a bizarre intensity in them. “I think we have more important things to discuss. Our host is edgy.”

Cloud could have cursed the little brat for pointing it out. Loz's eyes were suddenly fixed on him again in addition to Kadaj's gaze, and their looks were too predatory for comfort. As though they were sensing out his weaknesses before striking. He shifted, spreading his feet just a little, steadying his stance.

“Irene did want me to talk to you about what she found,” he said calmly, staring down the little remnant without letting himself back down an inch. “Assuming you'd like to know what she found, since you passed out before she could tell you herself.”

“Irene,” Kadaj murmured, seeming to settle strangely at simply the mention of the name. “The woman from last night?”

“Yes, she's the doctor who looked you over,” Cloud said slowly.

“She's not a normal doctor,” Loz snapped, as though Cloud had somehow insulted the woman.

“We like her,” Kadaj proclaimed with a dangerous note in his voice.

“I really don't care,” Cloud sighed, shaking his head. “So long as you don't kill anyone, I don't give a damn whether you like them or not.”

“Just tell me what she said,” the bossy young man insisted, tossing his hair before wincing, lifting a hand to curl over the reddened, injured skin on his shoulder from his burns.

“She says that thing in your neck is a tracking device,” Cloud answered without beating around the bush any further. “And that it'll power itself off the mako in your blood.”

For a moment, there was silence. Loz and Kadaj stared at him, Loz with surprise and worried eyes, and Kadaj with a narrow judging look. Cloud didn't let the stares bother him. He simply waited for them to comment.

“I was hopped up on mako inhibitors yesterday,” Kadaj said slowly. “It still zapped the shit out of me.”

“Apparently the initial charge from when they implanted it hadn't worn off yet,” Cloud said with a shrug, trying not to look too guilty at the reminder.

“Shit,” Kadaj whispered, clenching his jaw. “Shit shit shit.”

“So you have two choices,” Cloud continued after a moment. “You can either stay on inhibitors and try to drain that thing so that you don't have to guard your neck forever, and they can't follow us, or you can deal with it as it is.”

“Or I can just break it,” Kadaj hissed, eyes flaring in a way that showed clearly that the last dose of drugs from when the Turks were holding him was wearing off.

“It's implanted in your spinal cord,” Cloud warned him. “And though it would be much easier to keep track of you if you were paralyzed, I doubt very much that you'd like that.”

“You could be lying,” Kadaj hissed, jittering in place on the bed. “This could be just a trick. To keep control of us!”

Looking at him, Cloud found it hard to reconcile the fierce, snarling boy facing him down with the young man he'd been watching the day before, begging him to save his brothers. There was nothing pathetic about Kadaj when he was mad. He was a living threat. He might have been small compared to Cloud, and was definitely small compared to his eldest brother, but every inch of him was filled with an undeniable power. Mother or no mother, Cloud knew very well that the youngest boy would fight to the death if he thought he needed to. He took a deep breath, trying not to let himself respond on instinct to the rising threat.

“I don't need to do that, though, do I,” Cloud said softly and calmly. “You and I have an agreement, Kadaj. You behave by my rules, and I keep you away from Shinra. It's up to you whether or not to use the inhibitors. I'm not forcing them on you. And if you don't calm down, we're going to have some problems very early on in this relationship.”

“Kadaj?” Loz questioned quietly, watching for his brother's reaction.

Cloud was ready to fight. He knew very well that if Kadaj burst into motion, then Loz would follow. He would be fighting both of them, in the middle of Tifa's upstairs. And though he was certain he could defeat Kadaj, he was not so sure about Loz. He was stronger than the remnant, sure. But he was no hand-to-hand fighter. Without his sword, he might be in trouble.

“Fine,” Kadaj said abruptly, jarring Cloud from his thoughts.

The proclamation was sharp and angry, filled with the sort of fury that can only come from feeling weak. Cloud told himself that he would have to start reprimanding for that sort of aggressive behavior—letting Kadaj continue it would only make it worse—but for now he just nodded and pulled out the injection. It didn't escape his notice that both remnants flinched, and Loz's hand shifted back to rest over the unconscious Yazoo's elbow, as though protecting him from the shot.

Kadaj scowled, his eyes flaring once more in brief defiance. Then he raised his arm slowly, extending it to Cloud in what appeared to be a strange combination of challenge and offer. A clinical glance left Cloud sighing, and he shook his head, lifting a finger to delay the remnant. He left the room briskly, not wanting to leave the boys alone for too long, and fetched the first aid kit they kept in the kid's bathroom, removing some of the alcohol swabs they used to sterilize the nastier cuts that Denzel came home with now and then.

He returned to find two confused and anxious pairs of reptile eyes watching him. He ignored them both, walking over and opening an alcohol swab packet. Kadaj recoiled from the smell, drawing his arm back quickly and staring fixedly at the moist white square in Cloud's fingers. And suddenly, Cloud thought to himself, there was the Kadaj who was so afraid yesterday that he would ask the man who killed him for help.

“You're a mess,” Cloud explained. “And I'm about to inject you with something that will make it so that you can get sick. I don't want the injection site to get infected. This will clean it.”

Kadaj watched him a long moment, breathing deeply and a little raggedly. Then without a word, he extended his arm again, his eyes locked on Cloud's. Cloud let him win the staring match, leaning forward and firmly wiping the skin clean of blood droplets and dried sweat. He braced the arm with his other hand to keep him steady, and didn't let him pull away when he jerked against the hold. The kid stopped fighting after the first, instinctive pull.

“This is going to sting,” Cloud warned, pulling the cap off the needle once he'd finished his task.

“I fucking know that,” Kadaj snarled. “Just get it over with.”

Cloud slid the needle in just a little harder than necessary, annoyed by the ferocity with which his kindness was greeted. Kadaj's flinch and soft gasp for air brought him back to reality, and he was opening his mouth to apologize when a burbling, half-crazed laugh interrupted him. Not only did he stiffen, but Kadaj did under his hands as well, and Loz beside him. All three of them turned their eyes to Yazoo.

“From one prison to another,” Yazoo laughed softly, opening his eyes to a lazy half-mast, his gaze fixed on Cloud.

“Yaz--” Kadaj started, trying to reach out to him with the arm that was dislocated the night before, and was still firmly secured against his chest.

“Care to see the work of our last captors, so you know what you have to out-do?” Yazoo asked with a crazed laugh staining the words, sounding manically amused by his own words.

“Don't--” Loz started.

Yazoo's eyes flared, and Cloud found himself abruptly captured in their wild feline gaze, sucked in like a mesmerized mouse, surrendering to the cat that sought him out.

The green of his gaze consumed Cloud's world, sending him headlong to the floor of a different room. A scream shimmered in the air around him, just dying in the still air. Even as he picked himself up, the edges of the scream turned into soft burbles of laughter.

“Liked that, huh Psycho?” drawled an all too familiar voice.

Cloud jerked his head up, and came face to face with Reno. The redhead was sneering down at him, mag-rod in hand. Cloud lifted his hand to catch the weapon as it was brought down, but it passed through his hand—through his arm—to strike behind him. The heavy thud of impact was followed by still more of the wild, uncontrolled laughter.

“Fuckin' sadist,” Reno sneered, turning his back and walking across the empty white room to a small table in the middle—the only furnishing there was.

Cloud looked behind himself, and instantly rose, backing away swiftly. On the floor, Yazoo lay, bound and collapsed. He was grinning, his eyes still lazily lidded. There was blood on his teeth, and bruises were forming on his bare chest and shoulders. His silver hair spilled around him in a messy pool, but he seemed unconcerned overall. He blew at the bangs that were obscuring his vision, watching Reno with his bored predator’s gaze.

“Tell me when you're getting close to done,” Yazoo purred, his voice far from weak or defeated. “Then please, call in one of the _interesting_ Turks to continue the torture. Maybe that cute blonde. She can at least emulate all the interesting ways I hurt _her_.”

“You wanna hurt, yo?” Reno asked softly, his back still to the remnant.

His voice was different on that soft question. It was calm. Deadly calm—the sort Cloud had come to associate with the wild red-head's truly dangerous side. Reno blustered and ranted all the time. He was as unrestrained as a hurricane, and just as chaotically worrisome. But it was this deadly calm that was the Turk's real face. When his green eyes turned back to Yazoo, it was with a distinct cold satisfaction that was easily readable. Those were the eyes that said Reno expected to watch someone die.

Yazoo gave an involuntary shiver on the floor, and his smile fell away to be replaced with an almost challenging glare. He watched Reno smooth his hands over the instruments of torture on the table, and it was obvious that the Turk was savoring the moment of selection. Cloud knew what was coming even before Reno slid the knife free.

“What the hell,” cloud whispered, stepping back as Reno wandered over towards Yazoo. “How am I seeing this?”

“I'm going to carve you up,” Reno purred fondly, stroking the flat of his knife over Yazoo's cheek. “And then I'm going to feed you to yourself. All you'll get to eat will be strips of your own flesh. Maybe I'll let your brothers get hungry enough that they'll partake too.”

“So much talk,” Yazoo said softly, not betraying an ounce of fear. “And so little action.”

Reno's knife dug into his cheek abruptly. One moment it was resting there lightly, and the next he was dragging the tip down Yazoo's pale skin, leaving a stream of blood in his wake. When Yazoo instinctively tried to turn his face away from the pain, Reno shoved his head into the ground with his free hand. Cloud turned his eyes away from the scene.

A moment later, and Yazoo was screaming. Not in unrestrained cries of pain, but hurting, clenching cries of agony escaping through gritted teeth. And Cloud found, to his surprise, that no matter where he turned, he was watching the two. He couldn't escape them. They were in every part of the room. It was as though there _was_ no room at all, just the Turk and the Remnant, and wherever he faced, he was watching them. He couldn't even close his eyes.

The sounds of discomfort made the red-haired Turk smile widely. When he finally lifted his knife, the mark went from Yazoo's cheekbone to his chin. He gave the boy a moment to breathe, but no more. Yazoo opened his mouth to speak again, and Reno neatly cut him off by starting back at the top of his cut, and slicing outwards and down, connecting the long, ugly gash at the top and bottom, to make a wide strip of skin between them. Reno's firm hand kept Yazoo's thrashing from driving his knife too deep, but the cut was still ragged, and the Turk pouted at it.

“Nothing I hate more than shoddy workmanship, yo,” he sighed, shaking his head. “We're gunna have to work on that, you and I.”

“Oh please,” Yazoo started, “you think this--”

He didn't get a chance to finish. Reno's blade was at his cheek for a third time, and this time it was sliding underneath the skin in the center of both his cuts. He grabbed hold of the top of the strip, and smooth as silk dragged his knife just beneath it, slowly cutting the strip of skin free. Yazoo choked on his words, and for just a moment, there was honest shock on his face.

“There we go,” Reno said with a smile, rising smoothly and walking back over to his table, laying the strip of skin calmly on top of it. “Number one.”

Yazoo hissed softly, though he had managed to keep from screaming this time. Blood poured from the gap in his face. Head and face wounds always bled wildly, Cloud knew, but this was worse than normal by a long shot. The remnants eyes stayed on Reno, but he couldn't tilt his head too much for fear of blinding himself with his own blood. It flowed down his face, into his hair. A few trails of it slid into his ear, making the silver-haired man shiver in discomfort, and give a brief, writhing motion before bringing himself under control again. Once he got himself under control, though, he held perfectly still, and watched as Reno sauntered back, a blank stare on his face.

“What, this part's not funny to you?” Reno asked with an ugly chuckle.

He dropped easily to one knee by the remnant, his newly-bloodied knife still in hand. He slowly wiped the blood off of the flat of the blade on Yazoo's chest. Then he started tracing just the tip of the knife lightly over the expanse of pale, exposed skin, as though deciding where to cut next. Cloud could see goosebumps rise on Yazoo's arm as the cold metal moved slowly and delicately over him, not quite pressing hard enough to draw blood.

“You thought I was real funny before, right? While Rude and I were playing the 'dumb Turks' card. It's perfect, you see. It's the game we always win. Everyone goes along thinking we're kinda dopy, and pretty weak, and then all of a sudden, boom.” He tapped the knife once, briskly and lightly, over Yazoo's heart. “They end up right where you are.”

Abruptly, he picked his spot, and dug the knife in, dragging it calmly through the exposed skin, not too deep and not too shallow. Yazoo jerked, trying to escape the blade, but Reno just sighed and pressed him down with his free hand once more. By the time he'd finished his new line, it stretched from Yazoo's collarbone almost to his naval. Reno withdrew the knife with a satisfied nod.

“Almost perfect. You have _got_ to stop wiggling, though. You might still feel all cool and invulnerable, but if I slip even an inch,” he twisted the knife in the air, demonstrating with a wicked smile, “you're toast, yo.”

As suddenly as he'd started cutting, Reno shifted. He threw a leg over Yazoo, straddling his hips and laughing as the bloody remnant tried to buck him off, despite his bonds and injuries.

“Feisty, yo,” the Turk chuckled. “Lookin' forward to seeing how long that lasts.”

“I don't have any information,” Yazoo said.

Cloud balked. Despite the blood and the struggle, the clone's voice as flat and disinterested. He looked away from the grinning Reno and found Yazoo's face as empty as his voice. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips in a straight and unaffected line, brows neutral, and a gaping cut in his cheek.

“Not in it for the information, yo,” Reno purred, sliding the flat of his knife up to the top of the cut he'd just made. “That's what boss-man's got the baby remnant for. If you’re nice and quiet while I cut you up, you might get to hear your 'brothers' screaming. It's the closest you’re ever going to get to them now that we've got you three.”

That drew a flash of emotion from the remnant's eyes. Yazoo narrowed his gaze, went very still for a moment, then gave a very precise thrash that sent Reno reeling forward just enough for Yazoo to slam his forehead against the Turk's nose. Reno was laughing the moment the remnant struck him, and kept laughing as he sat up again.

“Touchy much,” he laughed, shaking his head with a wide grin. “Let's get down to business, then, since you're done with the idle chit-chat!”

The world lurched around Cloud, quite suddenly, and he had to catch his breath. Everything seemed to close down around him as he watched Reno cut Yazoo again and again. It fell into a rhythm—Cut, fight, cut, remove—over and over, until the world was greying out—until Yazoo's eyes were rolling back in his head and he was gasping for breath like a landed fish. Reno's laugh filled the air, happy and sweet, mingling with the groans of pain from Yazoo as his body failed him and threw him into unconsciousness.

And then suddenly, everything righted itself, and Cloud found himself on the floor in a white room with a drain on the floor. A scream shimmered in the air around him, just dying in the still air. Even as he picked himself up, the edges of the scream turned into soft burbles of laughter.

“Liked that, huh Psycho?” drawled an all too familiar voice.

“No,” Cloud whispered, shaking his head to clear it from the ringing of the last time he watched this.

Reno was hovering over Yazoo again—the only difference that Cloud was across the room this time. He brought his mag-rod down, cracking ribs, sending a jolt of electricity through the remnant. Yazoo twitched, and laughed wildly, writhing in his bonds with amusement and pain.

“Fuckin' sadist,” Reno sneered, standing and moving away, turning his back and walking across the empty white room to a small table in the middle—the only furnishing there was.

“Not again,” Cloud hissed, closing his eyes on the scene, and finding it still playing behind his eyelids. “This is my mind. This is _my_ mind!”

The mantra was old. A holdover from Sephiroth's days. And that thought was more than enough to send Cloud into a full-blown panic. If he was out of control, then Tifa was in danger—the _kids_ were in danger. He clenched his teeth, and reached for the memories that he knew where his.

“What, seriously?” An amused voice said from behind him. “You need my help to deal with a teenager? Well, I guess what they say about teenagers being dangerous is true.”

“Zack,” Cloud rasped. “Get me out. Make it stop!”

“It's _your_ head,” Zack said with a sigh, from somewhere just out of Cloud's sight, as usual. “I'm just visiting.”

“I can't do this,” Cloud gasped, trying to block out the image of Reno cutting the remnant open again—the wild grin on the face of the redhead as he tortured the defenseless teenager.

“But you have to,” Zack replied, with a sad note. “And you do always rise to the challenge, Cloudy. Come on. Just take back your mind. These are his memories. Force them back.”

Cloud concentrated. He gritted his teeth, and struck back with the only thing he knew that could one-up the torture he was watching.

The white room flooded bright green. It washed away the images of Yazoo and Reno. The bubbles in the liquid mako floated past his vision, and the burning all over his skin awoke, as though it had never left. And he remembered the way his arm had been sliced open that day—down to the bone—and then left open to heal in the corrupted planet's life-blood. He remembered the way his screams died in the oxygen mask that kept him alive against his wishes.

And suddenly he was back in his room, gasping for air. He shuddered in the wake of the memory, trying to shake the feeling of drowning in his own mind, as he almost had once before. He realized belatedly that he was on his knees, and he jerked his head up abruptly. Three pairs of reptilian green eyes stared down at him.

Yazoo was panting softly and slowly, his mouth open just a little to accommodate the intake of air. His eyes were bored and dead, as they had been in the memory while he was being sliced open. He looked uninterested, despite his attention. Kadaj and Loz, in contrast, were all but vibrating with tension. The younger remnant had a hand over his elbow where Cloud had been injecting him when Yazoo did... whatever it was he had just done.

Cloud stood abruptly and sharply. He didn't allow himself to stagger or waver. He wouldn't show any more weakness than he already had. He took a deep breath, staring at Yazoo, who was still sitting almost delicately on the bed. In his mind, he whirled through all the different punishments he might try to use on the aggressive remnant for his attack. Somehow, he felt that a time-out would be less than effective.

“He didn't know,” Kadaj snapped into the silent room, overshadowing his brother's soft panting. “You can't hurt him or send us back because he protected me. The last time he saw you, you'd just killed me.”

“Stop talking, Kadaj,” Cloud snapped. “I don't think I can handle your particular kind of shit right now.”

The boy snapped his mouth shut, and the look of fear that flickered over his face almost made Cloud feel guilty. Almost.

“If any of you ever touch my mind again, I won't bother giving you to the Turks,” Cloud said coldly and slowly. “I'll kill all three of you. On the spot. No questions asked. And if you pop back up again, then I'll make sure the Turks have all the equipment they need to keep you separate, contained, and just barely alive. Am I clear?”

There was silence from the three. He thought he saw a sheen of tears in Loz's eyes, but he ignored it. He was looking from one to the other, waiting for agreement.

“Am I clear?” he barked, raising his voice just a little.

The bark came out with a surprising amount of force. 'I sound like one of the generals,' he thought. He kept the surprise to himself, maintaining a firm, angry frown outwardly. Yazoo gave a little hiccup of burbling laughter, his eyes lighting for just a moment before he fell back into his bored, uninterested look.

“Yes,” Kadaj answered darkly, ducking his chin slowly in a quiet show of submission.

“Loz?” Cloud asked, looking to the bigger remnant for confirmation.

“I said yes,” Kadaj snapped impatiently and anxiously.

“I'm not asking you,” Cloud replied just as sharply. “Loz, do you understand or not?”

“I understand,” Loz growled, gazing at Cloud out of narrowed eyes.

“And you?” Cloud asked, turning his gaze to Yazoo.

“I'll do as Kadaj wants,” the slender remnant replied, giving an elegant shrug and slowly laying back on the bed, snuggling his cheek into the pillow with a look of luxury that was entirely uncalled for.

“Eat your breakfast or go hungry the rest of the day,” Cloud ordered. “I'm getting the clothes I borrowed for you three, and then we're gone. And if I hear one more sarcastic word or threat out of any of you, I'm going to gag all three of you.”

He whirled and stormed out of the room, just barely managing to slam the door behind himself without actually breaking it. Tifa was hovering outside. Her fighting gloves were on her hands.

“What happened?” She asked darkly.

“Nothing,” Cloud snapped, brushing past her.

“Don't you 'nothing' me, Cloud Strife,” Tifa said, turning and following him to the stairs.

“They're leaving with me, so what do you care?” Cloud asked, glaring back at her. “Just go take care of your bar and leave the problems to me.”

He ignored the look of hurt on her face. He didn't need her getting too close to him right now. He was more certain now than ever that this wouldn't work. He was only postponing the inevitable by not killing them now. But he had to give them a chance. The best he could do was keep Tifa out of the line of fire as long as possible.

When he went back upstairs with the clothes he'd scrounged up for the bloody boys, Tifa was nowhere to be seen. He was glad he didn't have to face her again. She'd probably be able to tell his heart wasn't into it if he had to pretend anger at her again.

Inside the room, he found Kadaj sitting on the bed, chewing on his fingernails and ignoring his brothers completely. Beside him, Yazoo was lazily and calmly feeding Loz bite-sized pieces of toast, a faint, teasing smile on his face, and looking far too amused by the embarrassment with which the biggest remnant accepted the bites.

“Come here, Kadaj,” Cloud ordered, setting the clothes by the door.

“What do you want?” The youngest hissed around the fingernail he was biting off.

In answer, Cloud just pulled the syringe he'd intended for the next day out of his pocket. Kadaj's eyes fixed on it, and narrowed dangerously. Cloud felt his adrenaline pick up. This could be the end, he thought to himself. If Kadaj turned on him now, and his brothers followed, he would destroy them, and that would be the end of it. A quiet part of him urged the young remnant on.

“Right,” Kadaj said after a moment, rising and walking over slowly, though his eyes stayed aggressive and barely controlled.

Cloud glanced to the elbow from the last attempt, and felt a little of his adrenaline die, replaced by a quiet guilt that was much more familiar. There was a scab on the inside of Kadaj's elbow, and a spreading bruise beneath the skin. He didn't remember what had happened to that needle after Yazoo invaded his mind, but it hadn't been comfortable. When Kadaj extended the arm to him jerkily, Cloud steadied it almost gently. He was glad he didn't have to touch skin to skin this time, having slipped his gloves on while downstairs. He slid the needle into the young man's vein, and injected the mako inhibitor smoothly. There was not a sound of protest from any of the three boys. Cloud slowly withdrew the needle, and pressed his thumb over the mark he'd left.

“I have it,” Kadaj said coldly, shifting his arm away from Cloud's grip to cut off the flow of blood from his vein with the hand that extended from his sling.

“Get dressed when you're done with breakfast,” Cloud said softly, feeling his animosity ebb away. “We've got a long drive ahead of us.”

This time, when he left the room, he glanced back. He watched as Kadaj walked stiffly to his brothers and dropped silently into Loz's lap. When Yazoo offered him a bite of the toast, it was not with a teasing air, but with the empty look he usually wore. Kadaj accepted quietly. Loz kissed his hair, and then lifted his eyes to meet Cloud's. Cloud held the gaze for a long time, initially narrowing his eyes to meet a challenge, but letting the expression fall as Loz's gaze remained sad and lost. After a long moment of staring at the remnant, trying to name the sad expression in his eyes as anything threatening or Sephiroth-like, Cloud stepped out and closed the door behind himself.

He couldn't handle seeing those beautiful, terrible eyes staring at him filled with tears and a look that almost resembled betrayal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never! Cloud and the Remnants begin the next chapter of their lives.

**Chapter 4**

'Uneasy' would have been the understatement of the century when it came to the ride in Tifa's truck. It didn't help that Cloud wasn't particularly good at driving stick shifts. Give him a motorcycle, and he could practically fly, but ask him to change gears smoothly, and suddenly he was an awkward cadet again. It took most of his will to keep from blushing like he had when he was in his classes, trying in vain to drive a jeep while his instructor sighed and shook his head in the passengers seat.

If anything, the remnants were worse than the instructors had been. They clung to the inside of the truck as though afraid Cloud's driving would toss them out. Though they didn't complain out loud, there were huffs of annoyance and frustration with every jerky gear change, and sometimes what sounded like gasps of fear when he took a turn. Cloud clenched his jaw as another shallow gasp—low enough that he suspected it was Loz—was followed by clambering for handholds behind him.

He'd been hesitant to let the remnants sit behind him at all. It was only out of necessity that he allowed it. His sword was sitting in the passenger's seat. Just in case. He still wasn't entirely certain whether or not he wanted to use it on them. It certainly did have its merits as an idea. Especially the longer their theatrics went on behind him.

At least they didn't smell anymore. Though the method they had used to convey their displeasure at their state had been less than welcome. He shook his head at the very thought. What was he going to do with them. How could he possibly stick to the rule both his mother and Tifa had always sworn by—that one should never punish by inflicting harm. He understood why, and he was all in favor of never hurting Marlene or Denzel... But surely this was different. The memory of the exchange that led to a brisk shower for the remnants rose unbidden, making him tighten his hands on the wheel.

_"You don't seriously expect me to travel like this, do you?" Yazoo asked in dry disbelief, gesturing to himself._

_"You're healed enough," Cloud muttered._

_"I don't care about being healed or not," Yazoo huffed with a leisurely roll of his eyes. "I'm absolutely filthy. I can't believe you just let all this blood dry on me. And worse, in my hair. Some savior you are."_

_Cloud narrowed his eyes. He'd caught the looks of amusement on the faces of Yazoo's brothers. They were playing with him, and he knew it. The only one of them not betraying amusement was the outwardly disinterested Yazoo, who was still gazing at Cloud through lidded eyes, awaiting his response._

_"Fine," Cloud huffed finally. "I'd hate to have to smell you all the way to Rocket Town."_

_Yazoo's smile was slow and coy. He extended his slender arms to Cloud, as though waiting for a hug. Cloud took a step back, watching the young man warily._

_"What," he finally snapped down at the remnant, when he failed to explain himself within the next few moments._

_"Aren't you going to carry me this time?" Yazoo asked, tilting his head slowly._

_"Just get in the fucking shower," Cloud snapped, whirling and slamming the door behind himself._

_Kadaj's bright, mad laughter followed him down the hallway.  
_  
"Would you watch the damn road?" Kadaj hissed from behind him, clinging to the side of the car as the memory drew Cloud's focus away from where he was going for a moment.

Cloud corrected his direction, glancing back at Kadaj in annoyance. Truth be told, he should have been paying attention. But that didn't mean he wanted to hear lip from the remnant. When he looked forward to see brake-lights ahead of him from the only other car on the road, he gave a heavy sigh and stepped on the clutch, shifting down to go the slower speed of the heavily-laden farmer's truck.

The truck he was driving jolted and lurched as he switched over to the gas from the clutch. Hisses of protest came from behind him, along with a soft gasp from Loz, who seemed to be having a more difficult time hanging on to things with his fingers still in splints.

"Do you have to keep doing that?" Kadaj snapped finally.

"I thought you said you never complained," Cloud muttered, glancing into the rear view mirror he'd adjusted to keep an eye on the remnants. All three of them looked strangely uneasy.

"It wasn't a complaint. It was a question." The remnant muttered grumpily.

Cloud shifted the car into the next gear up as the farmer finally turned off the main road. He winced as the truck lurched particularly fiercely. In the mirror, he caught sight of Loz pressing a hand to his mouth and clenching his eyes closed. He glanced to Yazoo, who was stiff and still, his lips held in a perfectly straight, thin line, and his eyes fixed on the floor. Kadaj was clinging to the back of the front seat with a death grip. He looked slightly green.

"Don't tell me you three get motion sickness," Cloud sighed, returning his gaze to the road.

There was silence from behind him, and the blonde sighed. He glanced back just long enough to see three pairs of eyes fixed almost suspiciously on him. He was certain he was mistaken in thinking that the look on Kadaj's face was one of fear.

"Alright," Cloud sighed. "Just watch where we're going. It helps. I'll try to steady out the shifting."

"You know," Yazoo drawled, "I can drive a manual."

"I know," Cloud replied, meeting the remnant's eyes in the mirror. "You kidnapped a bunch of kids in one."

"None of them got motion sick, though," the young man replied, tilting his head to send his hair over to one side, seeming undisturbed, despite the slightly dizzy look in his eyes, and the way he still held his mouth a little too tense.

"Just shut up and handle it," Cloud snapped, turning his gaze forward. "It's only another hour till we get there."

Loz made a muffled sound of concern and despair. Cloud ignored it with a roll of his eyes, sighing. But the next time he shifted down, he took a moment to slide into gears, coaxing the unfamiliar vehicle into a less jolting re-start. There was, at least, a little less scrambling and obvious discomfort from behind him.

"See?" Aerith whispered in his ear. "Motion sick. Just like real people!"

"Not while I'm driving, Aerith," he muttered, hoping he was managing to say it to her in his head without saying it aloud. He glanced in the rear view mirror, but the brothers didn't appear to have reacted to his muttered complaint.

They drove in relative silence. Cloud sorely missed the roaring sound of Fenrir's engine. The sounds Tifa's truck made were far from comforting. And the only other thing to listen to was the breathing of the three monsters behind him. He himself was not immune to motion sickness, though he was immeasurably better than he'd been as a cadet. Just knowing that he was in the car with three people who were also feeling sick made his stomach rebel a little. He was glad that he was driving. It made it easier to cope with.

When he finally pulled up outside Cid's relatively remote hangar and the small house he'd built nearby, he had to restrain a sigh of relief. The moment the truck stopped, Kadaj was out of it like a shot. He stopped only a little ways away, stretching luxuriously, trying to pretend that he hadn't been more than eager to escape the car.

"What is this place?" Loz asked, stepping out of the truck as well, followed by Yazoo, both of them practically sedate in comparison to their slightly wild-eyed brother.

"Rocket Town, like I said," Cloud answered, rolling his shoulders and pulling First Tsurugi free from the passenger's seat, sliding it into the complex harness he wore on his back. "Cid's hangar to be precise."

"That crazy blonde guy?" Kadaj asked with a scoff. "He's nuts. He went for my Bahamut with nothing but a spear."

"I'd be careful of him brother," Yazoo purred, tilting his head to send his hair swaying to one side. "You have bad luck with blondes."

"Shut up, Yazoo," Kadaj hissed, whirling on him with fury in his eyes.

Yazoo just turned his gaze away as though Kadaj had lost his interest. Cloud, on the other hand, had fixated on the suddenly aggressive boy. His hand wasn't quite on Tsurugi yet, but he was ready to pull it out if needed.

"Kadaj," he said darkly, leaving his unspoken warning to hang in the air.

The remnant tossed his hair, turning his back on the three other people around him.

"Well," purred a dark, low voice. "I see the rumors are true, then."

Cloud looked towards the voice, a smile already on his face, not bothering to be too surprised. Red cape flickering around him, Vincent was approaching slowly, the soft clink of his metal boots on the ground as unmistakable as the smoldering red eyes with which he regarded Cloud.

"Vincent!" Cloud said in pleased surprise, striding forward to clasp hands with the man.

"It's been too long," Vincent said in his low, powerful voice, gripping him back just as firmly.

"You actually sound like you mean that," Cloud teased fondly, releasing Vincent's hand to take a step back.

Vincent's eyes narrowed just a little in a way that implied he might just be hiding a smile behind his cowl. Cloud heard the three remnant shifting behind him, and glanced back to look his three new charges over.

The boys were obviously uneasy. All eyes were on Vincent, and the looks they were giving him were not their usual aggressive glares. If anything, they looked almost scared.

"So they really are back," Vincent commented mildly. "It's one thing to hear it from Tifa, and another to see it in person."

Only the softest low rumble of aggression colored his voice, but it was enough to make all three of the remnants shift closer to one another. Cloud watched them reach for the weapons they weren't carrying, and almost laughed at their discomfort. It was through sheer force of will that he restrained himself. It wouldn't make living with them any easier to laugh at their displeasure.

"You probably should have left them with the Turks," Vincent commented.

"You know why I couldn't," Cloud said softly.

"Torture is not always as unwarranted as yours was," Vincent said, his bright red eyes returning to fix upon Cloud once more. "If they did not want pain, they should not have captured Elena and Tseng."

"We—" Kadaj started, defensive and on edge.

"Kadaj," Cloud said firmly, cutting him off. "Wait."

He turned back to Vincent, catching the flicker of amusement in his eye. A quiet suspicion rose in Cloud that the ex-Turk was riling the remnants up intentionally. He wasn't sure whether that should worry him or not.

"Are you going to help them against us, Vincent?" He asked at last, meeting the demon-bearer's eyes without fear.

"You know my allegiance lies with you," the ex-Turk replied calmly. "If this is the direction you have chosen, then I am with you."

"It is," Cloud asserted firmly. "So long as they follow my rules."

"Then I will assist you however I can. I am certain Cid will agree. He is fixing up the house you requested, or he would have insisted upon greeting you himself."

"Thanks," Cloud murmured, though a faint hint of confusion colored his voice. He was almost certain he'd heard a note of familiar affection in Vincent's voice when he mentioned the pilot. From anyone else it would have been normal. From Vincent, it was almost surreal.

"Good. You have my number." Vincent was saying with a slow nod. "If you need me again."

Cloud shifted at the reminder. He wasn't proud that Vincent had been compelled to save him from the wrath of the remnants before. And he wasn't entirely pleased at the reminder, especially not in front of the boys. He was quite bewildered by the lack of snickering from behind himself.

Vincent was, apparently, done with the discussion. Never one for farewells, he simply turned away, walking back towards Cid's house, taking an easy leap up to the roof of the house and crouching there slowly, like a protective gargoyle. Cloud watched him with bewilderment. He doubted he would ever understand the enigmatic gunman, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. If Vincent said he was on their side, then he was.

"He's not human," Yazoo commented mildly.

"Neither are you," Cloud replied briskly, turning to them. "Kadaj, let me see your tracker."

"What?" Kadaj hissed, his eyes flicking off of Vincent to glare at him. "Forget it! The last time you messed with it, you nearly killed me. Again."

Yazoo's eyes narrowed dangerously at his brother's words, and Cloud clenched his jaw, shooting the slender remnant a warning look.

"I want to make sure the light is off before we go any further. I don't mind the turks knowing we came this far. Vincent will cover our tracks from here."

Kadaj gave a low growl under his breath, and shook off the touch Loz extended towards him. The biggest remnant gave a little whimper, drawing his splinted fingers back to his chest as though he'd been bitten. Abruptly, Kadaj turned his back on Cloud and shifted his hair out of the way. The spike of metal was still right where it had been—unchanged and unshifted. The skin around it was red and blistered, the burns from electricity branching in their ugly lightning-shaped wounds.

The light on the end of the spike was out. Cloud narrowed his eyes, focusing. Through the wind, and the distant bird calls, he could hear with startling accuracy, if he cared to try. He could hear Kadaj's heart beating. It was a slightly frantic pace, fueled by nervous energy. He had no doubt that the unease was due to being forced into turning his back on Cloud. He couldn't hear any hint of an electric buzz from the tracking device the turks had implanted him with.

"Alright," Cloud stated after a moment. "Let's get moving then."

"We're just leaving the car here?" Loz asked quietly, almost as though he were uneasy speaking the question aloud.

"Cid will get it back to Tifa," Cloud replied with a wave of his hand. "You three and I are walking to the house from here."

"You mean to the prison," Yazoo drawled. "It may look like a house, but that is merely a sugar-coating."

Cloud didn't bother responding. He just started walking, listening to the remnants following with heavy, displeased steps. His mind was whirring, and he couldn't shake the slightly sick feeling Yazoo's words brought him. It was a prison. He knew that. What he hated wasn't putting the remnants in a prison. It was that he had to stay there too that made his gut churn. He was the sole guard of three of the most dangerous creatures the planet had ever seen. And he was doing it because he had chosen to.

'Because it was the right thing to do,' he reminded himself firmly. 'And I'm not going to let myself forget that. Or forget that this is the choice I made. There's no backing down now.'

It was almost relieving, walking the long mile to the small farm-house Cid was letting him use. He didn't like being as close to the remnants as he still was, but it was infinitely better than the stress and uncertainty of the closed-quarters in the car. Out here, he could rest assured that he'd be able to kill all three of them without any collateral damage if he needed to. That was part of why he'd asked Cid to use the building, as drafty and old as it was.

He heard someone stumble behind him, and turned back to see Loz catch Kadaj quickly in his still-painful hands. The kid was sweating and shaking a little. Still weak, Cloud thought to himself, shaking his head a little. His mako had been suppressed before he'd really had a chance to heal. He had forgotten while they were in the car. The little remnant was so damn infuriating, it was easy to overlook how hurt he was. Cloud quietly wondered if that was an intentional thing, or just the boy's nature.

"Do we need to slow down?" Cloud asked, his voice sounding slightly disinterested. It was better than sounding slightly pleased, which was how the words had almost come out. It was quietly satisfying to see the remnant off his game.

"I'm fine," Kadaj hissed with a snarl, shoving Loz off of him with a harsh movement.

Cloud shrugged and turned away, continuing to lead the way to the house. It was strange, he thought. Yesterday, the little remnant had all but flung himself into his larger brother's arms. But the healthier they both became, the less friendly they seemed to be. And then there was Yazoo, who hadn't even moved when his brother stumbled. And yet Kadaj had seemed terrified at his brother's still form—had even appeared close to tears when he first saw what Reno had done to him. Surely they were closer than they appeared.

Cloud paused as the farm-house came into view. It was a small building—not as compact as the living quarters of Seventh Heaven, but small none the less. The paint on the front of the house was chipping, and one of the shutters on the front windows had fallen off. There was a rather pathetic attempt at a garden set up outside, wilted and over-run. With the weather growing cold, Cloud very much doubted that any of the intended plants would make it through to the next spring.

"Spikey!" Cid yelled, jogging up the hill with a hardy wave. "'Bout time you got here! What'd you do, catch yerself a chocobo to ride on?"

"Cid," Cloud muttered, shifting a little and glancing away.

Though he and Cid were undoubtedly friends, Cloud did not much care for the lackadaisical attitude the pilot often took. Obviously the man was currently of the opinion that the tree silver-haired monsters behind Cloud were not a threat. Cloud did appreciate, however, that in addition to wearing his tool belt, Cid was carrying his spear over one shoulder.

"Well hello ta you too," Cid griped, stopping in front of Cloud and shifting easily. An unlit cigarette was dangling out of the corner of his mouth, as though he were just saving it for later, and had decided that he might as well hold onto it in his lips instead of putting it away.

"Is the house ready?" Cloud sighed. He wasn't in the mood for Cid's idea of formalities. If the word 'tea' was brought up, he might just start screaming.

"Jest about," Cid replied with a shrug. "If yer stayin' for long, we'll have to shore her up before winter. Didja run into Vince on the way? He was pretty interested in seein' our new neighbors."

The grin he gave the remnants was less than friendly. Cloud could hear Loz shifting behind him, and was reasonably certain that the soft rumbling sound that suddenly filtered into the air was Kadaj growling.

"It'll do fine," Cloud said with a warning note in his voice. "I'd like to get settled. I'll call you when we can talk more."

"Sure, sure," Cid replied easily, wiping a smear of what appeared to be oil off his cheek and rubbing it off on his pants. "I can tell when I ain't wanted. You go get settled in with our new resident psychos."

"We're not-"

"Kadaj," Cloud warned, more sharply than he had when the boy stepped in talking to Vincent.

He was reasonably certain that the look that crossed the remnant's face was a pout. He wasn't certain exactly how he felt about a remnant of Sephiroth pouting. He found it very difficult to process. He turned away instead of acknowledging the expression.

"I'll see you soon, Cid," he said to his pilot and friend.

"You just give me a holler if they give you any trouble," Cid offered with a firm nod. "Vince an I'll back you up no matter what."

"Thanks," Cloud muttered, walking towards the house. "But I think I can handle it."

Cid had obviously been busy cleaning the inside of the house. It was far from perfect, but there were no cobwebs, and there was a faint smell of lemon-scented cleaner in the air. Cloud instantly started getting a headache from the artificial scent, but he was still glad that Cid had chosen something with a smell other than 'sterile.' He didn't do well in sterile environments.

"Ugh," Yazoo muttered in distaste.

Cloud glanced back at him, finding the remnant eyeing the rather old wallpaper with open distaste. He was picking lightly at the scab on his cheek even as he studied it. Cloud averted his gaze again quickly. He was relatively certain he heard a soft chuckle from the remnant in response to his unease.

"It's kinda," Loz hesitated mid-sentence, considering his next words carefully. "Weird."

"Best you could come up with, brother?" Kadaj jibed, his eyes narrowed almost cruelly.

"Enough," Cloud said briskly. "You three are staying here, so you might as well get used to it."

He turned and took the stairs, expecting to be followed. He was rewarded with three sets of feet following him, and a few muttered complaints from Loz. He stopped outside the first bedroom, swinging the door open. He shook his head a little as he looked inside. Cid was always prepared.

Three of the rather simple, small beds that he used in all his airships for his crew were shoved inside the room haphazardly. It wasn't luxury, but Cloud didn't want to give the remnants a perfect place. So long as they had the necessities, that was all they needed as far as he was concerned.

"This will be your room," He proclaimed, stepping back. "So long as you don't hurt anyone, I don't care what you do in there."

"Really," purred Yazoo. "I should warn you that I'm a screamer, and I don't like the taste of pillows."

Cloud felt his already somewhat stomach twist at the implications.

"What?" Kadaj asked in bewilderment, turning his eyes to his slender brother.

"Nothing, brother," Yazoo replied with extreme boredom, his eyes steady on Cloud's.

To Cloud's further annoyance, the remnant did not so much as balk in the face of their keeper's obvious displeasure. He was still picking at the scab on his face, peeling off little pieces of it one at a time.

"I'd advise against playing with me," Cloud said lowly. "Unless you want to be in a very different and much less agreeable situation for the remainder of your stay. Go to the bathroom to get the rest of that scab off."

"I don't know where it is," Yazoo said with mock innocence, blinking his cat-like eyes at Cloud. His irises were glowing softly with a dangerous mako light.

"Second door," Cloud pointed sharply. "And if I hear one more sarcastic or double-edged word out of you tonight, you three will be staying in my room instead of getting what little privacy you have."

"I'd go to the bathroom," Loz advised, watching Cloud uneasily.

Yazoo's eyes narrowed, but he obeyed. Belatedly, Cloud realized he would have to think up some punishments for disobedience short of handing the remnants back to the Turks. He wouldn't hesitate to pass them off if he had to, but he had to figure out where to draw the line.

Kadaj slipped past him into the room. He glanced around and sighed at the looks of the walls.

"I don't think it's too bad," Loz murmured after a moment.

"Stop trying to suck up, Loz," Kadaj snapped. "He doesn't like you any more than he likes the rest of us. You did beat up his girlfriend, remember?"

"Yeah, well, I thought..." Loz muttered, hanging his head a little.

"Just move the beds against the wall," Kadaj ordered. "You're much better at doing things than thinking."

Cloud sighed softly as the big remnant sniffled and went to obey. He was about to comment when he found himself pinned by Kadaj's inhuman eyes. He restrained from scolding him for his treatment of his brother to wait for the next comment. He quietly hoped it was something that would allow him to lose it with the remnant. He was already very close.

"Am I allowed to have a drink?" Kadaj said shortly.

"Kitchen's downstairs," Cloud said blandly, stepping out of the way. "And I'll hear you if you try to leave."

"Getting a glass of water is not my idea of a well conceived escape attempt," Kadaj sneered, rolling his eyes. "Loz, you and Yazoo get the room in order."

"Okay," Loz said softly, watching his brother leave.

Cloud glanced at the big remnant with his splinted fingers, and was surprised to find the big remnant almost instantly fixing him with a warning glare. He seemed benign in comparison to the quicksilver tempers and cool control his brothers displayed, but the warning in those eyes as they watched Cloud told a different story. He was dangerous.

"That son of a bitch," Yazoo hissed, slamming the bathroom door behind himself.

Cloud whirled with his sword out in an instant. Yazoo just blinked at him, a bored, disdainful look on his face.

"Put that thing away," Yazoo snapped. "For once I'm not annoyed at you."

Cloud lowered his sword slowly. He had no doubt what the remnant was angry about. The skin on his cheek that had previously been the remainder of a scab was a thick band of pink scar tissue. It would not be as small and unnoticeable a scar as Cloud had assumed at first.

"Like what you see?" Yazoo muttered dangerously as he walked past Cloud, sliding in to the room with Loz and sitting on one of the beds, looking almost morose.

"It'll heal prettier, Yaz," Loz said softly in an attempt at being soothing.

"It will scar," Yazoo snapped. "And I'll have to think of that damn redhead every time I try to look in the mirror."

"Kadaj wants us to set the room up," Loz muttered after a moment, sounding almost guilty.

"Fine then," Yazoo replied coldly, rising and turning to face the room. "We might as well."

Cloud turned away. Even in rage the remnant's face was blank, and his eyes were nearly empty. There was just a hint of that dangerous mako flare. He walked downstairs swiftly, trying to ignore the conversation behind him.

He stepped into the kitchen area to find the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room populated by a single remnant, sitting with a glass of water. Kadaj's shoulders were hunched wearily. Cloud walked in slowly, taking care not to hide his footsteps.

"Regretting asking me to get you out yet?" Cloud asked the brooding remnant as he approached.

"You know I'm not," Kadaj said, his hand tightening reflexively on the glass of water he held.

"I don't know anything about you," Cloud scoffed, shaking his head.

"We're not so different," Kadaj replied bluntly and petulantly.

A loud scraping from upstairs made Cloud wince. He quietly hoped Cid wasn't too attached to unblemished hardwood floors.

"Not there, idiot," he distantly heard Yazoo complain.

"But you just told me to put it here," Loz whined in return.

"They're doing it on purpose," Kadaj muttered, staring into the water in his glass.

"Doing what on purpose?" Cloud said, trying to ignore the distant sounds of bickering and crying.

"Annoying you," Kadaj replied, idly dipping one of his fingers into the water. He seemed disappointed when the liquid remained stubbornly clear instead of swirling black, but took a drink anyway. "I have enough control over them that they won't out right misbehave, but they'll be trying to make your life hell."

"Like you haven't been," Cloud said darkly. "Even when you were trying to get me to save you, it started with you picking at old wounds."

"What, Buster Sword?" Kadaj asked with a scoff. "I'm not the one who decided to represent Zack with the stupid thing. Its symbolism is all in your head." The remnant smirked slowly. "A lot of things are."

"Are you honestly trying to piss me off more?" Cloud asked darkly, crossing his arms and widening his stance just a little.

He let his mako flare with his annoyance. It was gratifying to see the remnant of Sephiroth give a little jolt of surprise at the sight.

"No," Kadaj replied succinctly, frowning as he looked back into his water.

Cloud settled slowly, letting his annoyance pass—or trying to at least. The kid took another slow drink of water, letting it sit in his mouth for a while before swallowing, as though he were savoring it. Something about the motion made Cloud's skin crawl a little.

"Did you bring that burn stuff with you?" The remnant asked dully, not bothering to lift his head.

"I did," Cloud replied with disinterest. "Do you need it?"

"No," the remnant snapped, as though Cloud's question was a personal affront. "I'm fine without it, but Irene left instructions, and they said that I have to put it on at night. It's not like I'm-"

"Just stop," Cloud ordered, lifting his hand to stall the remnant. "I don't need an essay. Do you want me to bring you the burn ointment, yes or no."

There was a long pause. Kadaj stared down at the counter intently, with a fierce glare. Upstairs, furniture scraped again, and Cloud heard something shatter. A loud and obviously disingenuous voice called 'oops' down the stairs.

Cloud closed his eyes and silently asked for patience.

"Aw, they're just puppies, Cloud," Zack's voice cooed as though he thought the destructive monsters were cute.

'No,' Cloud replied silently. 'They're really not.'

"If it will make you stop communing with the dead, I will take that burn ointment stuff," Kadaj snapped, breaking Cloud out of his thoughts.

"Watch your tone," Cloud warned while inwardly he shuddered. How did the hell did the remnant know he'd been talking to someone in the lifestream?

He got the burn ointment despite his sour mood and displeasure. He set it down on the counter with a slightly too-loud thump and walked into the kitchen. He almost got himself a glass of water, but changed his mind. He didn't want to be any more like the remnant than he had to be at any given moment. He pulled out a beer that Cid appeared to have left for him instead. The alcohol wouldn't so much as touch him through his enhancements. And it was perfectly packaged to ensure that no remnants would be able to poke it and turn it black.

When he glanced back, his annoyance and anger faded. Kadaj's fingers were shaking as he slid the gooey healing salve over the electric burns on his wrists. The wounds were less stark now than they had been, but the branching lightning designs were still red and swollen. When Kadaj turned his head slightly to spread the stuff under his shirt, Cloud caught a glimpse of the blisters on his neck. He sighed at the sight.

"Get one of your brothers to look after your neck," he muttered into his beer.

"Forget it," Kadaj scoffed, not lifting his eyes from tending to the burns winding around his arms. "I'd rather not have my little trigger back there nudged whether you think it's out of battery or not."

"You're going to scar worse if you don't," Cloud warned. "Might even affect your mobility."

Kadaj's jaw clenched, and he tilted his head away sharply, hiding behind a fall of perfectly straight hair.

"Doesn't matter," He muttered. "My brothers won't do it if they think I might get hurt."

"Then I will," Cloud replied flatly, setting down the beer.

"Yeah, it turned out great for me letting you mess with my neck yesterday," Kadaj snarled, glaring at Cloud.

Cloud hardly noticed the expression. He was helplessly interested in how the remnant's eyes looked without their natural mako glow. They were still inhuman, obviously—still wrong—but somehow softer. Without the harsh light in them, he looked less like Sephiroth. They were such a bright green—as uncanny in their natural color as they were with the mako glow. It was worlds away from the nearly silver green that had been shining in Sephiroth's eyes the last times Cloud saw him.

"It's your choice," Cloud said after a moment, realizing he'd hesitated too long while distracted. "Me or Yazoo and Loz. You're not leaving them untreated."

Kadaj scowled, glancing upstairs. Cloud doubted he could hear the murmured conversation taking place between the brothers above them. Even with his enhanced hearing he'd only barely picked out enough to realize that they were trying to decide whether or not they should follow Kadaj's order to wait for him, or come down and make sure he was okay.

Nearly a minute after Cloud's proclamation, Kadaj made his decision. He silently scooted the tin of salve towards Cloud and reached behind his head, lifting his silver hair out of the way for him.

"Better make it quick," Kadaj muttered. "Don't want to be touching a remnant for too long, do you."

"No," Cloud answered blankly as he moved behind the boy. "I don't."

He started applying the burn ointment without ceremony. He didn't allow his fingers to twitch when he touched blisters, like he would have liked to. He fought to keep his eyes on his task rather than staring at the silver hair held out of his way by shaking fingers. Or worse, at the piece of metal protruding unnaturally from Kadaj's flesh.

He hesitated as a shorter strand of hair fell frm between Kadaj's fingers and brushed over the back of his hand. Cloud's mind reacted badly to the silver glint, inserting longer hair under those hands and a broader frame under his touch. His free hand clenched into a fist as he shook away the mental image of Sephiroth. Being so close to Kadaj might have been similar to a bad dream, but it was no nightmare. Once the illusion of Sephiroth faded and he had himself under control again, Cloud asked what had been truly worrying him, fighting to keep his voice even as he spoke.

"Do I have to worry about you turning into Sephiroth?"

"Not unless you have some of Mother's cells in your pocket," Kadaj muttered, stiff and tense under Cloud's fingers. "Or in one of those vials Irene gave you."

"I'm not joking," Cloud warned, though he kept his touch gentle. Kadaj's fingers were twitching in anxiety with every light brush of Cloud's fingers. It was almost as pathetic as watching him jolt and shiver as Tseng tapped the button lightly during his torture.

"Me neither," Kadaj muttered. "Hojo would inject me with it when he needed a second—What's wrong with you?"

"Don't say that name," Cloud hissed, backing away from the remnant.

He'd removed his touch the moment the words entered the air. Kadaj turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. The remnant rolled his shoulders and started rubbing the one he'd dislocated lightly and distractedly. He looked for all the world like he was mildly bewildered by Cloud's reaction—as though he hadn't just invoked the name of the man who had torn Cloud's life apart.

"You mean Hojo," the kid asked, tilting his head.

Cloud had his sword drawn the moment the name left Kadaj's mouth. The tip of his blade was just barely touching the remnant's throat. Cloud was breathing hard, fighting to keep his mind clear enough to not murder the remnant on instinct alone.

Kadaj was holding extremely still. He stared down at the sword that could easily kill him with just a small flick of movement. Cloud could see the pulse in the remnant's neck speeding up. He probably would have heard it thundering if not for the roaring in his ears.

"I'm sorry," Kadaj whispered, not taking his eyes off the blade. "Don't kill me."

"Mention him again," Cloud whispered, "and you will wish Tseng was here."

He pulled First Tsurugi away from the pale throat, leaving a slim trail of blood from the little cut he'd made when he first touched his sword to skin. Kadaj slid slowly off the bar stool, almost falling once he was on his feet. He was still weak. Pathetic, Cloud thought darkly.

Kadaj backed away from Cloud, his eyes fixed on him. It was obvious he was expecting to be attacked again. Cloud turned his back o him in a silent dismissal. A moment later, he heard Kadaj break and run, thundering upstairs. His footsteps were quick and unstable. He tuned out the sound of his brothers' reactions, turning to brace himself against the counter.

Behind his eyelids, all he could see were round glasses and thin, smiling lips. He'd killed the doctor, he reminded himself silently. They'd killed him together. Only...

"Do nightmares ever die?" he muttered to himself, hanging his head silently.

There was no reply. He wondered, quietly, if the lack of response was because Zack and Aerith didn't know the answer, or if they were too disappointed in him for threatening the boy to speak. He closed his eyes tightly, and breathed in slowly. He was just waiting to hear the sound of the remnants attacking him—of anyone attacking him. He would have welcomed the fight. Fighting cleared his head. It drove memories back where they belonged—into the past.

No one approached him. From overhead he could hear a thin soft sound. It was very similar to the way Denzel cried when he woke from his nightmares—A sort of crying that was half from fear, and half from fear of being heard. Cloud blocked the sound out. If it was the remnants, it was them playing him. And Cloud Strife was many things, but he was not a fool or a pushover. Tomorrow, he promised himself, would be the day to make rules, and find a way to enforce them.

Inside, he highly doubted that this would work. It might take a few days—maybe even a few weeks—but this would fall apart. It wasn't as though he had a plan. He just knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had to give them a chance. Even if that chance made him miserable, and put him in danger.

He would never be able to live with himself if he just let them rot without at least trying. And if it didn't work after that... Well, he couldn't say he'd be heartbroken. Quietly and guiltily, he looked forward to them failing so he could get back to the life he loved.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the course of the night, Cloud ignored three calls from Reeve and one from Tseng. They left messages. Cloud didn't check them. Eventually he would talk to Reeve and explain what he'd done—he was well aware that he'd probably be competing with the story Tseng had already told him, and was quietly dreading having to negate the well-spoken Turk's argument. As much as he believed in what he was doing, he had none of the skill with words that Tseng did. He could only hope Reeve's history with him would give him a little advantage when he called him back. But he couldn't worry about that yet. He was still busy.

He stared down at the blank page in front of him, willing himself to think clearly. He needed rules, and he needed them written down. He doubted it would change the behavior of the monsters down the hall, but it would help him keep his head. He was much less likely to kill them prematurely if he had a strict list of things that would get them killed.

Cloud hesitated a moment, then started writing.

**"Tier One Offenses—These will get you killed"**

He sighed to himself, It was simple enough, but it sounded so benign on paper. He wondered if he should word it more strongly. He rolled words like 'murdered,' 'destroyed,' and 'slaughtered' around in his head until he realized that it was becoming more of a daydream than a writing exercise. He cut the train of thought off viciously, and started the list where it was most obvious.

**Kill a person**

There was a quiet thump from down the hall, and Cloud paused to listen.

"You and your hard head," Kadaj was grousing grumpily

"That hurt," Loz whined in response.

"I told you we wouldn't all fit in one bed," Yazoo huffed, frustration clear in his voice.

Cloud blinked, letting their voices fade into the background noise once more, assured that they weren't up to anything nefarious. But nefarious or not, it had been strange. He was pretty sure he'd never heard Yazoo say ANYTHING without sounding either bored, furious, or amused. He glanced to the door, feeling the same uneasy sensation that he was in over his head that had been running through his head all night.

With a sigh, Cloud turned back to his one-item list. What the hell was he going to do with them? They didn't deserve to be free, he was certain of that. They needed to be kept where they couldn't hurt anyone. At least not anyone who didn't' stand a chance of fighting back. He wasn't worried about himself—about the members of Avalanche who might drop by. He was more worried about the children in the cities. He had no guarantee that the remnants wouldn't just sweep them up and kidnap them for fun if they weren't closely watched.

'I'm sorry,' Kadaj's voice whispered in his memory, deceptively soft and frightened. 'Don't kill me.'

Cloud snapped the pen he was writing with and sighed down at the ink all over his hands and the paper he'd been working on. He closed his eyes slowly, regaining his calm through force of will. They weren't children, he reminded himself firmly. They weren't innocent. They were monsters.

That didn't mean he was proud of threatening the boy's life the night before. It hadn't been a conscious decision. It had been a panic reflex. Though at least he assumed it would have gotten the point across. He very much doubted that the boy would mention Hojo again.

He twitched again, remembering suddenly the limp, bloody form of Yazoo and the crying, shaking form of Loz, cradling his broken fingers. It had been no Hojo, but it certainly hadn't been too far removed. Maybe it was just a Shinra thing. Being good at torture. He remembered overhearing Reno once talking to Tifa about 'job satisfaction.' He gave a little twitch and tried to put the thought out of his mind.

Tifa. He'd need to call her too. After he called Reeve. Before he called Cid.

He hated his cell phone. He didn't want to have to talk to anyone. He certainly didn't want to have to explain the choice he'd made.

He wiped his ink-covered hands off on his pants. Not like the black ink would show up on them anyway. Not like there was anyone here to care.

He pulled out a new sheet of paper and restarted. "Tier one offenses—these will get you killed. Number one, kill a person." He stared down at the paper for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. There was no right answer. There was no perfect thing he could do that would make all this make sense. He could only do the best that he could.

"Number two," he murmured softly to himself as he wrote. "Try to kill me."

Well, it would definitely get them killed, that much was true. The problem wasn't thinking of things he would be happy to kill them for. It was deciding what the hell other punishments there could be.

"One thing at a time," he whispered to himself, looking down at the two item list. "For now, it's just this."

'Number three,' he added, 'run away.'

He hesitated, considering, then nodded to himself. It seemed harsh, but they knew as well as he did why they couldn't be trusted out and about. On the same note, he added 'number four, kidnap children.'

"I hate lists," he muttered to himself, staring down blankly at the paper.

'And they hate you,' Aerith's voice teased from nowhere.

Cloud closed his eyes, sighing softly. He was never entirely sure which of her jokes were his own shattered mind supplying what it guessed her response would be, and which were actually her. It was very hard to tell at times.

"Fuck it," he muttered to himself. "That's enough for now."

He tossed the pen down, leaning back in his desk chair. He stared up at the ceiling blankly, listening to the other room down the hall. Nearly an hour had passed since he sat down to write. He was really bad at this sort of thing, and very slow at it.

If the remnants were still awake, they were being very quiet. Cloud suspected that they were either fast asleep and recovering or writing to each other. He hoped it was not the latter. He didn't have the energy to hunt them down just this moment. They could at least wait until he'd actually posted the rules to break them.

His phone vibrated on his desk, thundering softly as it buzzed against the wood. Reeve's name appeared on the front screen. Cloud let out a slow breath and picked up the phone. He hesitated a long moment—as he always did—hoping quietly that he'd 'accidentally' not manage to pick up before the voice mail did. It never worked, though. Not once he'd gone so far as to pick it up.

He flipped the phone open.

"Reeve," he greeted flatly. "It's late. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Oh thank Gaia it's you," the politician said swiftly on the other end. "I was half convinced they'd killed you or stolen your phone."

"As if," Cloud muttered. "They'd definitely answer on the first ring."

"They're still alive then?" Reeve said softly. "Like Tseng said, you really 'saved' them."

"You were around as Cait Sith, Reeve," Cloud replied, keeping his voice low and steady, his eyes on the ceiling. "You know my views on torture."

"And you know that I agree with them," Reeve said swiftly. "I've had words with Tseng about it. His Turks are not supposed to use their authority for such brutish tactics anymore."

Cloud scoffed into the phone, giving it a distinctly displeased look. He was less than happy with how well Neo-Shinra and the WRO got along. It reeked of old corruption to him, despite his trust in his friend. Rufus Shinra could talk a dog into biting its own leg off if he wanted to. He'd sure played him well enough.

"I'm not returning them to Shinra custody," Cloud said firmly into the phone.

"They are dangerous criminals," Reeve argued, just as firmly. "Cloud, you know I respect you and your judgement—I wouldn't have followed you as far or hired you as a consultant if I didn't—but this is going too far. You are not a judge."

"I beg to differ," Cloud said darkly. "The whole world has expected me to be judge jury and execution for the past three resurrections of a man I used to respect. The only reason any of you are upset this time is that I didn't play 'executioner' as fast as you wanted."

"Cloud," Reeve said, hesitating after the name, as though he was about to argue, but had lost his words for a moment. "None of us sees you that way."

"Then you should look again," Cloud said softly. "If you want them back, you'll have to come take them. Good luck finding an army that's willing to follow you against me."

"I'm not your enemy," Reeve objected softly. "If anything, the main thing I'm worried about is you. What Sephiroth and Jenova did to you—Cloud, those three have his memories. They might try to play you like he did."

"And if they do," Cloud replied coldly, "I'll kill them for you. Until then, stop calling me unless something's happening in Edge that you need me for."

"Wait," Reeve said. "You're not in Edge? Where are you?"

"Tell Tseng to get a new informer," Cloud replied dryly. "You're terrible at fishing for information."

There was silence over the line for a long moment. Then a slow sigh from Reeve that told Cloud he'd been right. He felt his heart sink.

"I thought you were better than that," he whispered into the phone.

"I know," Reeve said softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't try again," Cloud warned softly. "You've already used up all your trust credits, Reeve. If you're really worried about me, then back me up. I already have more enemies than it's easy to keep track of."

"I'll do what I can," Reeve promised quietly. "But Cloud... As enemies go, I really wish you'd kept the remnants as the enemies and let the Turks stay allies."

"It wasn't my choice," Cloud replied darkly. "My decisions don't make something right or wrong. The Turks are bad guys, Reeve. I couldn't stay a good one and just let what they were doing pass."

There was a moment of hesitation on the line before Reeve spoke again. "How are they?"

"Rebellious," Cloud answered at once. "Pushy, infuriating, and sometimes terrifying. They're also scared, frightened, trapped, and weak."

"No wonder you wanted to help them," Reeve said softly. "That sounds a lot like you were back in the day."

"Good night, Reeve," Cloud responded swiftly, snapping the phone shut.

He stared up at the ceiling, gripping the phone tightly for a moment. Then he let out a slow breath and released it, letting the hunk of plastic fall to the desk. Breaking it wouldn't solve anything. It would just worry Tifa when she couldn't reach him. The last thing he needed was more people falling under the impression that he'd been killed by the remnants and was, therefore, not answering his phone. Honestly it was a little insulting. He'd taken care of them practically single-handed. And then killed Sephiroth.

Some days it annoyed him how very selective his friends' memories were.

He glanced to the clock and sighed. Five in the morning. He needed to get the lay of the new house before the remnants were up and about—assess what work would need doing, and get the lay of the land to ensure that no one got the drop on him. He stood up stiffly, stretching out the kinks in his back. He'd been sitting slumped at his desk since he finally came to his new room earlier that night. It was a rather cramped, depressing space, but at least it had the desk and a cozy enough bed. Not that Cloud had used the bed that night. Or planned to use it much at all.

"I'll have to find temporary guards at some point," he murmured to himself. "Maybe Vincent. I can't just stay awake forever."

He stepped quietly out of his room, taking care to remain next to silent as he ghosted through the house, inspecting the cluttered rooms of storage upstairs—the cramped, dusty attic—the friendly dining room-the reasonably well-stocked kitchen (he'd owe Cid for that one, he knew)—the small living room with its fire place for the colder months—even the basement downstairs which was easily five degrees colder than the rest of the house and just dark and dank enough to remind Cloud of basements he didn't want to think about.

'I could lock them down here when they were bad,' he thought to himself as he stepped out and pulled the door closed behind himself, 'but considering what they are and where they came from, they'd probably think it was cozy.'

A glance at the clock showed him he'd only wasted an hour exploring the farm house. It wasn't as small as he'd feared, at least. He wouldn't have been able to handle staying in the same room as the three at all times.

"May as well get set up for today," Cloud whispered to himself. "It's going to be a long one."

–

Cloud stepped back, looking at his little poster once he'd hung it up on the dining area's wall. Not half bad. His handwriting left something to be desired, but not everyone could write as neatly as Tifa. It at least didn't look as pathetic as it had before he'd trimmed off the vast empty pieces of the paper at the end of his short list.

Upstairs he could hear movement again. It wouldn't be long before his long solitary night was rudely interrupted. He let out a slow breath, forcibly calming himself. He had to stay calm and in control. Showing weakness to these three would be like baring his throat in front of a Nibel wolf. Footsteps on the staircase made him open his eyes again, and he gave the nail he was hammering into the wall to hold the list a final tap with the hammer he'd found, taking care not to strike too hard. He didn't want to knock a hole in the wall.

"What are you doing?" Loz asked blearily from the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"Putting up house rules," Cloud responded, glancing briefly at the remnant.

He was not terribly surprised to see Yazoo and Kadaj flanking their brother. None of them looked like they had slept. Yazoo was leaning against Loz's side. He yawned hugely, and it stretched the red scar on the left side of his face. The mark was fierce enough that it stretched the corner of his mouth and pulled down on his lower eyelid just a touch.

Kadaj was glowering on Loz's other side. Unlike Yazoo, who had obviously healed well overnight, Kadaj looked worse if anything. Both his eyes had purple bruised rings around them. The stark lighting-shaped marks on his skin had started to blister. He'd discarded his shirt at some point over the night. His dislocated shoulder was an ugly mottled bruise. It was the scab on the center of his throat that made Cloud look away.

"What's it say?" asked Loz in his gruff sleepy voice.

"Read it yourself," Cloud replied with a shrug.

A sharp set of three scoffs followed his words, and it took a great deal of effort for him not to shatter the mug he had just picked up.

"Okay," he said after a long moment. "Tell me at least one of you can read."

Resounding silence answered him. Kadaj muttered something and staggered past his brothers into the kitchen, sliding onto a stool and putting his head on his good arm on the counter top.. His other settled in his lap, and let let out a slow breath, as though he was just then relaxing. Cloud could see his chest expand and contract with every breath. He seemed mildly winded, though he appeared to have done nothing more complicated than come downstairs.

"We don' need to read," Loz muttered.

"You said there would be breakfast," was all Yazoo said, arching an aristocratic eyebrow and seeming entirely unabashed.

"There's toast and cereal," Cloud muttered. "Help yourself."

Yazoo gave him a look that was half boredom and half suspicion before wandering over towards the toast. He didn't so much as touch Kadaj as he passed. Cloud watched the space between the brothers with confusion. He'd expected at least a brief pat on the head.

"I guess I'll have to find tutors for you three too," he muttered to himself.

"We don' need to read," Loz repeated, giving him a narrow eyed look.

"If you're staying here and not in prison, you're going to learn," Cloud replied, refusing to back down before the glare.

"Come eat, brother," Yazoo called mildly, diverting Loz's attention.

"Okay," Loz muttered, turning from Cloud to join Yazoo. "'Daj, you're not hungry?"

"I don't like to eat before getting shots." Kadaj growled in reply, shifting his gaze to Cloud.

Cloud stiffened. There was more defiance in that gaze than there had been the day before. It had been a mistake to threaten him the night before. Kadaj looked wary now—on guard. Gone was the begrudging gratefulness Cloud had seen in him before. Now there was only fury in his eyes. Fury and exhaustion. He didn't look like he had slept for a moment the night before.

"Fine," Cloud forced himself to say. "Upstairs. Your brothers can stay down here and eat."

"We're coming," Loz insisted sharply.

"No," Cloud replied firmly, turning on him, "you're not. Not after that display yesterday." His gaze flickered to Yazoo as he talked, and despite his displeasure and the danger he knew he'd put into his voice, the slim remnant smirked at him. It hardened his resolve.

Kadaj pulled himself off his seat at the bar and trooped upstairs wearily. Cloud turned his back on Loz's uncertain look and Yazoo's glare, following the shirtless remnant upstairs. Cloud wondered what, exactly, Kadaj had told his brothers the night before. He followed Kadaj into the remnant's room, wincing at the scratch marks on the floor from moving the beds, the mattresses piled together in the center of the floor, and the remains of what he assumed had at once point been a vase. He opened his mouth to speak, turning to face Kadaj, but paused at the sight of the young man.

Kadaj had his arm held out, ready and waiting. His eyes were steady on Cloud, and filled with an almost challenging look. The scab on his neck and the bruise inside his elbow were stark against his pale skin. Looking into his unglowing eyes, Cloud remembered that he was physically human, and had to withhold a shudder at the thought of what he'd almost done to him the night before. He took a deep breath, and walked over, not letting himself take too long to think. He sterilized the skin on Kadaj's elbow, and uncapped the day's syringe.

"Do you really think they don't already know where we are," Kadaj asked dryly, "or do you just like keeping me under your thumb."

"I like keeping myself from electrocuting you by accident," Cloud said firmly, frowning at him. "Or did you forget that detail?"

"If you didn't touch me so damn much, it wouldn't be a problem," the remnant snarled.

Cloud withdrew the syringe swiftly and turned to leave the room. Behind him, he heard Kadaj shift, and the sound of skin on skin as he rubbed the area where he'd gotten the shot.

"Asshole," the remnant whispered behind his back.

"When you're done pouting you can have breakfast," Cloud snapped, leaving the room and not letting himself balk when he found Yazoo and Loz waiting outside.

Yazoo leaned impassively to the side, looking into the room at Kadaj. Whatever he saw, it didn't change his expression. But he did step lightly out of Cloud's way, giving him passage down the stairs without opposition. Cloud didn't take it. He stood stock still and glared at Yazoo and Loz. He wasn't about to let himself get pushed around, or let them take alpha rank. Certainly not on the second day of them being here.

"Move," He said calmly and firmly, glancing between them.

Loz shifted gamely out of the way. Yazoo stayed where he was a long moment, looking at something behind Cloud. Cloud glanced back to find Kadaj giving Yazoo a forceful glare. Ahead of him, Yazoo stepped slowly and lazily out of the way, tilting his head back to gaze upwards, uninterestedly. It unnerved him to find that it wasn't his own orders Yazoo was obeying, but Kadaj's.

"When you're done trying to figure out ways to annoy me without getting yourselves killed come downstairs," Cloud muttered, heading downstairs without a backwards glance.

He threw the syringe away as swiftly as he could. He wouldn't show it. He wouldn't show how much it disgusted him to have to give the remnant those shots—how badly his hands wanted to tremble when he held the needle. How many terrible memories it rose to just see the shining tip, much less to slide it into someone's skin.

'Pull it together and make breakfast for yourself,' he instructed himself silently. He scowled in frustration at himself. He had never even made breakfast more complicated than cereal for the kids at home. Cid had only stocked up on grossly healthy cereal. In a way Cloud was grateful-the remnants certainly didn't deserve Chocob-O's for 'good behavior,' but he could have gone for something else to ingest. He wondered with wry amusement if they still made the gods-awful MRE's he'd had to choke down back when he was a cadet on assignment. That would definitely serve the little assholes right.

Eventually the three of them shuffled back down the stairs again, retaking their places around the table. They said nothing, but sat in sullen silence. It did not escape Cloud's attention that though Loz was eating, the other two had yet to so much as take a bite.

His phone blared to life in his pocket. He almost laughed at the startled jumps the skittish remnants gave. Kadaj flinched as his plate of toast fell, but Yazoo's deft hands caught it before it hit the floor, placing it back on the table carefully without looking away from Cloud. His uncanny green eyes were blazing.

"Are you going to get that?" He purred darkly.

"How can you stand listening to that thing?" Loz groused, his mouth full of toast.

"Just be quiet and let me talk," Cloud huffed, flipping the phone open.

"Cloud?" the voice on the other end of the phone was trembling in anxiety.

"Denzel," Cloud breathed, turning away from the disturbingly interested eyes of the remnants. "What happened?"

"Why aren't you back yet?" Denzel's voice cracked as he spoke, the words filled with the emotions he usually tried so hard to hide.

"I can't come home just yet," Cloud murmured in reply.

"Because of them?" He spoke the word 'them' with venom filling his young voice. "I don't understand—Why don't you just kill them again?"

"Denzel, I've never 'just killed' anyone," Cloud said with disapproval clear in his voice, frowning. "I'm not going to start now."

"But—Cloud, what they did to me—I hurt Marlene because of them. She had a nightmare about me!"

Cloud felt guilt coil in his chest, and couldn't help but soften to Denzel's plight. He did understand. He'd been puppeted enough himself to know what he was going through. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Denzel," he whispered into the phone, "but this is the right thing to do. I'm certain of it. That doesn't mean it's easy for me."

"Why can't you just-"

"Because they're still people," Cloud said firmly. "No matter how much you and I dislike them. And I have to give them the chance."

"But we need you too," Denzel whispered into the phone. Cloud could hear his fingers gripping it more tightly.

"I know," Cloud said softly. "I'll figure out a way to take come home soon, okay? I know you, Tifa, and Marlene can work together to take care of each other for a little while. Right?"

"Yeah," Denzel finally whispered after a long moment.

"Okay," Cloud said softly. "I'll call you every day, okay? Just to check in. And tell Tifa and Marlene not to worry. Everything's fine."

"Reno says they're going to kill you," Denzel whispered into the phone.

"Reno's full of shit," Cloud replied more sharply than he intended to. He took a steadying breath, forcing back the memory of the redhead's cruel smile as he sliced Yazoo's face open. "He's got a personal grudge. All the Turks do. So don't believe everything they say, alright?"

"Alright," Denzel said softly.

"I'll call you back tonight," Cloud promised. "So go to school. You're going to be late."

"You better call," Denzel said his voice forceful and abrupt.

"I will," Cloud promised softly.

He wasn't surprised when the boy hung up without saying goodbye. He would have been frustrated at himself too in the young man's shoes.

"Well well," Yazoo purred softly from behind him. "Can it be we've actually found a true protector? I believe he even defended our honor." There was the twisted edge of a laugh in his voice.

"Shut up, Yazoo," Kadaj said softly before Cloud could. He was watching the blonde with intense eyes. "Who was it."

"Denzel," Cloud replied blankly. "I'm sure you don't remember-"

"The kid who lives with you," Kadaj said softly. "Brown hair. His shirt was a little too big, and the stigma was on his forehead. I remember."

Cloud tucked the phone in his pocket, eyeing the attentive remnants and refusing to allow himself to be embarrassed for holding the heart-felt discussion in front of them.

"He was upset because you're with us," Kadaj murmured at last.

"You terrify him," Cloud replied darkly. "He has nightmares about you where you make him hurt Marlene."

"We wouldn't hurt Marlene," Loz said softly.

"Shut up, brother," Kadaj snapped sharply before turning back to Cloud. "He's afraid of us puppeting him."

"Yes," Cloud said darkly. "He is."

For a moment, with Yazoo and Loz fiercely hushed by their dominant brother there was utter silence as he was observed by the three pairs of reptile eyes. He could tell Yazoo and Loz were suspicious—tense. One word from Kadaj and he knew this would turn into something much worse and much more violent than it currently was. He held the smallest remnant's gaze with his own, matching his even stare. It was hard to keep up the rigid front. Kadaj looked like any abuse victim, without his healing powers knitting him together swiftly like it did his brothers. It didn't mean he was less dangerous, Cloud reminded himself. Just that the danger would come in different ways.

"Tell us the rules," Kadaj demanded abruptly, picking at his toast with fingers that only shook a little. "We'll do what you say."

"Really?" Loz asked softly, looking to Kadaj in surprise.

"He-" Kadaj broke off, let out a slow breath and continued. "Cloud's our best hope, Loz. We messed up. We're criminals. If you see any better jails lying around, let me know."

Loz hesitated, then nodded his agreement. Yazoo stared impassively at his brothers before slowly sitting back in his chair, tilting his head emptily and gazing off into space.

"Read the rules," Kadaj muttered again. "We're listening."

Cloud stared at him a moment, then nodded his approval quietly. Kadaj broke eye contact, looking away, and Cloud knew he didn't imagine the little shiver that worked its way through the remnant. He didn't mention it. Kadaj was already compromising himself by complying with him thus far, and Cloud wasn't one to push his luck. At least not when it was finally taking a turn for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on hiatus from my fanfictions for November while I compete in National Novel Writing Month, so I hope this chapter holds you for a while longer!


	6. Chapter 6

"You have six new messages." The cheery and all-too-familiar voice on Cloud's phone said. He'd had his phone off for the past few hours, after calling home that morning. "Message one."

"The kids really miss you," Tifa's voice said, cutting straight to the chase as she always did when she called lately. "Cloud, you said you wouldn't do this again. At least when we were losing out to Aerith's memory I understood. Call me back."

"End of message one. Message two."

"Tourism is down eighteen percent in Wutai! Finally!" Yuffie's voice was shrill and delighted over the phone, full of enthusiasm and energy. "Hope you haven't been eaten by the larvae yet. Come and visit some time! I promise not to count you in the tourist data, okay?"

"End of message two. Message three."

"Spiky!" Barrett sounded angry. He often did, but this was not the enjoyable kind of annoyance he tended to carry. "You better be getting home to visit my girl soon! I'll come for you if you make her cry!"

"End of message three. Message four."

Cloud sighed and closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure and calm long enough to hear out all the messages he'd received.

"Cloud, I keep having nightmares about them," Denzel muttered into the mouthpiece, as though trying to hide his words from someone listening in nearby. "Stay safe, okay? They'll trick you."

"End of message four. Message five."

"It's Reeve again." The politician sounded tired, but at least his voice wasn't forced. Cloud ran a hand over his face. The WRO would not stop calling him. "Cloud, Tseng is really serious about this. You need to think about whether or not you want to be an enemy of the Turks. On top of that, you are my friend, but if you're going to continue on this course I can't let you do it on the WRO's payroll. Call me back. We need to talk."

"End of message five. Message six."

"This is Irene." Cloud paused, blinking at the phone. It was not what he had expected. He'd been bracing himself for another quietly angry message from Tifa. "I got your number from the bar. I need to check on the boys. Especially if you've kept Kadaj on the inhibitors. I don't care if you have to blindfold me and drive serpentine to keep me from telling where you're hiding. Call me back."

"End of new messages. Menu options. To review your messages, press-"

Cloud flipped his phone closed and slid it into his pocket. He turned his gaze out the window, staring outside at the small hills that hid the little farmhouse from seeing the rest of town, aside from the giant structure that had once held Cid's rocket. There was no place anywhere near Rocket town where you couldn't still see the spires sticking up into the sky.

The days had gone by at a crawl, passing in bruising silence. Cloud had spent them watching the remnants tirelessly. He'd watched them eat and pace and glare—watched them exchange meaningful looks with each other and send death glares at him when they thought he couldn't see.

Cloud had not been sleeping. Every time he turned his back on them or started to sink into bed, he'd found that all he could think about was how much healthier all three of them were than when he'd taken them from the turks—how easy it would be for them to escape or do him real harm. He hadn't thought about what he'd do when they were back to full strength at the time of saving them. If it hadn't been for Kadaj's fragile humanity, Cloud had no doubt that the three would have ripped him to shreds like rabid dogs. As it was, he'd had no choice but to live with his paranoia.

So far, though, there had been no disasters. He wasn't sure whether or not to be grateful for that. It meant that he didn't have an excuse to kill the remnants and get back to his family, but it also meant that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't made the wrong call.

He'd made no progress on finding tutors. He'd only barely managed to keep calling home every morning. Marlene and Denzel always seemed happy to hear from him, but Tifa barely spoke at all. He knew better than to expect any differently, and was quietly grateful. He wasn't sure he could withstand one of her lectures without caving and calling in Tseng.

By the time the fifth day came and went without incident, Cloud was caught between relaxing because nothing had gone wrong yet and being tenser than ever. He couldn't decide if the storm had passed, or if this was the calm before it. When Loz looked at him with curious uncertainty, he wavered towards the first, but when Yazoo's hate-filled eyes met his, he suspected the second. Kadaj could go either way, depending on the moment. Sometimes he seemed young and almost sweet. Other times he seemed like he might snap at the slightest provocation.

And yet, if they said anything to Cloud, it tended to be a clarification of the rules. They seemed to take them very seriously. Cloud was quietly worried that this meant they were looking hard for loopholes they could exploit. Except when it was Loz asking. Then he very much doubted any ulterior motive. It wasn't that the remnant was trustworthy, per se, but unlike his brothers he didn't appear to have a duplicitous bone in his body. Cloud quietly felt a little sorry for him. He couldn't imagine that Kadaj and Yazoo didn't turn their fiendishness against their sweeter brother at least now and then.

All in all, things were calm for those first five days. Cloud communicated with the world outside his little house over the phone if at all. Cid and Vincent were always nearby, and often Cloud saw specks of red outside the window as the ex-turk watched from afar. It made him feel disproportionately safer. After all, without Vincent the Remnants would have killed him a long time ago. He gave himself permission to feel safer knowing that the red-caped ex-turk was keeping an extra eye on their house.

It was starting to get colder outside already. They were heading swiftly towards winter. Cloud was looking forward to spending a winter outside Edge and Midgar despite the circumstances. It had been a long time since he had seen a proper snowfall, for one thing.

All of the tension aside, Cloud found himself growing more and more restless as the days passed. He wasn't built for inactivity. He missed driving all over the landscape, even if it was for his stupid delivery service. He probably would have been bored out of his mind if it weren't for all the things he had to consider about his current 'prisoners.' He spent much of his time observing them and trying to decide what was going on in their heads.

Yazoo's scar had healed nicely. It was still stark, even on his pale skin. The texture might even out one day, but for the moment it was uneven and admittedly ugly compared to the otherwise pale perfection of Yazoo. Cloud liked it. Or more, he liked that it bothered Yazoo. He often caught the remnant running his fingertips over the mark when he thought no one was looking. He tried not to smile too obviously at the disgruntled look on the remnant's usually empty face.

In fact, he often spied all three of the remnants touching the marks the turks had left on them. Loz fiddled with his crooked fingers just as often as Yazoo touched his scar, though he was far less cautious of when he did so. More than once he'd had his hands slapped for it by Yazoo or Kadaj. He would always sheepishly lower his hands after the brisk swats and send a glare at Cloud, as though it was his fault. Cloud wanted to scold them for the harsh treatment, but he hadn't quite decided where he stood as of yet. He wasn't their parent, after all. Just their guard. If they actually harmed Loz, he promised himself, then he would step in.

Of the three, Kadaj was the least predictable in terms of his scarring. Though the branching tree like scars that peeped up from beneath Kadaj's collar were stark and obviously uncomfortable, he never seemed to notice them. Every now and then, instead, Cloud would spot him rubbing at his inner elbow where he injected the mako inhibitors. That was the only mark that commanded his attention. The electric burns on his wrists had faded much better than those around his neck. Cloud doubted they would scar at all, given time.

He observed all their discomfort as though from a great distance. A small part of him thought it served them right. After all, hadn't the victims of the geostigma been uncomfortable? Hadn't they been in pain so much worse than these little fragments were experiencing? He tried not to notice the other small part of himself that wanted to teach them stretches to loosen the tight skin over their scars—to teach Loz how to strengthen the weak joints in his fingers—to tell Kadaj that he knew the pain in his inner elbow—to apologize for giving it to him.

But the days passed in silence. Cloud gave orders, and they were followed. He sent the remnants to their room, and they went. He made them what simple food he could, and they ate. He ignored them, and they ignored him in return. All in all, it was quiet. Until the sixth evening, when Cloud tried to send the remnants to their room, and Yazoo lingered. Cloud ignored his delaying for a moment after Loz and Kadaj had trumped up the stairs, then turned to ask what he as doing. He didn't get a chance to fully phrase the question before Yazoo was speaking.

"You're killing him, you know," Yazoo said.

Cloud's eyes narrowed at the empty way Yazoo said it. He was so quiet most of the time, it was easy to forget the deepness of his voice, and the strange blank affect he adopted to speak.

"What?" He asked, looking the willowy remnant over.

Yazoo sighed, rolling his eyes and tossing his hair lightly. He cracked his neck briefly before sauntering over towards Cloud.

Cloud stood his ground as the remnant approached, watching him closely. He might forget Yazoo's presence sometimes, but he knew better than to discount the threat the young man represented. He was the calmest and most distant of his brothers, but he had also shot the sunglasses off Cloud's face without killing him. He was very aware that it had been intentional.

"You're killing my brother," Yazoo said softly, his voice a low purr. "Not by hurting him, but bit by bit. You're taking him apart from the inside out." He stepped up, stopping only a few inches from Cloud. His normally bored green eyes caught Cloud's gaze and held it. Cloud could see a deep intensity inside all that calm.

"I know you're an idiot," Yazoo said coldly, "so I'll spell this out for you. Stop crushing his spirit, or I will defend him, Cloud."

He drawled out Cloud's name in a way that make Cloud tense. For a moment, he saw Yazoo tense too, and prepared for battle, inches from his opponent and weaponless. Then Yazoo's lips twitched unevenly into a wide smirk and he took a step back, chuckling softly.

Cloud watched him as he swayed out of the room, glaring at the silver hair that fell down to his mid-back. Briefly, he wondered if he could get away with cutting the little shit's hair while he was asleep. Then he shook the childish thought away. He frowned, thinking it over. Was Kadaj really doing that badly? He knew he was unhappy, but their happiness wasn't his concern.

Cloud ran a hand over his face, letting out a slow breath. Nothing was ever easy. He should have known that by now. He paced around the empty house, waiting. Kadaj always wandered downstairs at least once after being sent up. He always made up a reasonable excuse, of course. He needed to use the bathroom and Loz was in the one upstairs, or he needed some water, or he forgot something. Cloud allowed the minor rebellions in the hopes of quelling a major one.

Within fifteen minutes of Yazoo's troublesome warning, he heard footsteps on the stairs from the remnants room. Cloud walked into the kitchen to find Kadaj standing at the sink, filling the battered kettle Cid had left for them.

"I was just getting a drink," Kadaj snapped defensively the moment Cloud appeared in the doorway. "You said we could."

"You can," Cloud replied, leaning slowly against the wall. "I was hoping you'd talk with me."

"It's not my fault if you pissed Yazoo off," Kadaj muttered. "He won't even tell me what you did."

Cloud watched Kadaj toss his hair as he turned the stove on to heat the kettle. It was mundane moments like that which really disturbed Cloud. The moments when Kadaj did something so utterly normal that even his glaringly obvious strangeness was swallowed by the mundane nature of it.

"What," Kadaj snapped, whirling on Cloud and glaring at him.

Cloud shifted his gaze to the side wall.

"You're always staring," Kadaj muttered, eyes narrowed in distrust.

Cloud didn't bother to respond. Kadaj knew very well why Cloud watched him closely. The remnant huffed in annoyance, regarding Cloud with a scowl before turning to pour the heating water into one of Cid's cracked mugs. He never bothered with waiting for his tea to steep properly.

"What do you want to talk about, then?" Kadaj muttered, cradling the warm mug in his hands. "Might as well get it over with."

Cloud let out a breath, centering himself. "Look," He muttered after a moment, "I know this isn't an... Easy transition. And I know you've got a lot to work through. Especially with the inhibitors. I want to let you know that if you need something, you can tell me. This isn't a vacation, but I don't want you to be..." he trailed off, staring at Kadaj's face.

The remnant was giving him a desperately confused look, his lip curled up in a faint, bewildered sneer as he looked Cloud over from slit-pupil eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Kadaj asked, wrinkling his nose.

Cloud paused, taking a moment to observe the young man. He looked tired, but not unhealthy. The dark bruised circles under his eyes had lightened over the past few days, leaving him looking more like an insomniac than an abuse victim. The stark electric burns had taken well to the healing ointment, their angry blisters fading swiftly into smooth new skin. He did not look like someone who was dying inside.

"Never mind," Cloud muttered. "Obviously your brother is just messing with my mind again."

"He does like doing that," Kadaj agreed with a smirk. "And you do make it easy, I have to say."

"Thanks," Cloud growled.

It wasn't until he was well out of the room that he heard muffled laughter behind himself. He almost got annoyed, but hesitated. He mentally replayed the conversation. Then a smile quirked his lips and he shook his head, climbing the stairs towards his room, leaving Kadaj snickering in the kitchen behind him.

He was almost at the top of the flight, berating himself all the way for being so gullible, when he heard the muffled tears. He hesitated and turned his attention towards the remnant's room, holding still, listening.

"Come on," Yazoo said. "Pull yourself together. He'll be back upstairs soon."

"I know," Loz replied, his voice choked and miserable. "I'm trying."

"It's not so bad, is it?" Yazoo said, his tone suddenly softer. "We've seen worse."

"I know," Loz whispered, giving a wet sniffle. "I know, Yaz. I'm trying."

"Oh brother," Yazoo murmured. "What am I going to do with you?"

Cloud stood still in the hallway, thinking back over Yazoo's words. A quiet uneasiness crept over him as he realized that he'd never even considered the fact that Yazoo had two brothers. Of course he knew that, but it was so easy to think of them as Kadaj and the other two. Yazoo and Loz were almost never alone, either together or both with Kadaj. Only their little leader seemed to value his alone time.

And yet, Cloud thought, that did not mean it was acceptable of him. He'd taken in three beings, not one and two halves. He frowned, considering. Talking to Loz would be more difficult than talking to Kadaj. It was easy to find Kadaj alone—easy to understand what angle the remnant as coming from. Cloud had no idea where to even start with the biggest remnant.

"Talking to ghosts?" Kadaj drawled from behind him.

"Thinking," Cloud replied, only barely managing to tamp down on the urge to whirl and attack.

"Don't hurt yourself," Kadaj muttered under his breath.

"Don't push it," Cloud warned in return.

"Jerk," Kadaj muttered.

"Tell me about your brothers," Cloud said softly, rather than letting the argument play out as it usually did.

Kadaj froze, already half-way to spitting out his next insult. He frowned, shifting back from his almost-aggressive stance. He stared up at Cloud with a faint, considering frown on his lips.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything, really," Cloud muttered. "What do they like?"

"Um... Yazoo likes shooting things and Loz likes beating them up?"

"Never mind," Cloud sighed, turning away and stepping out of the stairwell down the hallway. "I should know better."

"What's this about?" Kadaj asked, following Cloud with a slight sway to his step. "They aren't going to misbehave. Well, not any more than they already do."

"It's nothing like that," Cloud muttered. "Go to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Kadaj hesitated, watching him. He tilted his head until he was gazing at Cloud from behind a curtain of his straight, perfect hair. Then he nodded slowly.

"If it's to help with what's worrying you," Kadaj said after a moment, "I can talk to them. We're supposed to be cooperative, after all."

Cloud narrowed his eyes at the boy, not trusting the innocent look in his eyes as far as he could throw him. But he nodded none the less. "I could use to have a word alone with Loz. Think you can manage not to go ballistic over that?"

"Loz," Kadaj yelled, tilting his head back to call for his brother. "Cloud needs to talk to you."

"Huh?" Came an answering bellow from the room down the hall.

"Direct," Cloud commented.  
"He responds best to bluntness." Kadaj responded with a shrug. "It's Yazoo you have to talk circles around."

Cloud stubbornly refused to let himself smile or think that the remnant's comments were in any way endearing. He just gestured for Loz to follow him as the confused young man came out of the room, still wiping tears out of his eyes. He led him into the living room, and closed the door firmly on the other two. He heard Kadaj give a brief grunt of annoyance, but turned away from it to walk across the room and lean against the far wall. Loz stood awkwardly for a long moment before sitting slowly on the sofa. It creaked under him rather alarmingly.

"What did you want to talk about?" Loz said, shifting uneasily and attempting to look aloof.

Cloud looked him over, taking in the dark circles under his eyes—the twitching fingers fiddling with each other—the way his gaze kept darting to the closed door. He let out a slow breath.

"Something's going on that you aren't telling me about." He said after a long moment.

"Nothing's going on!" Loz argued briskly. "We've followed all the rules, and we even go to our room when you say, and we haven't broken curfew and—"

"That's not what I mean," Cloud replied, shaking his head. "Something's going on with you. You're not sleeping, and you don't eat as much as you should."

Loz went still, his hands freezing in place. He tilted his head down and looked away. Cloud watched him set his jaw and grit his teeth. His brows furrowed as though in thought.

"Loz," Cloud said after a moment of silence from the remnant. "I cannot do anything if you won't tell me what's wrong."

The remnant kept his gaze averted and his jaw clenched. Cloud watched his hands slowly return to fiddling in his lap unconsciously.

"It's too-" Loz's words were halting and uncertain. "Small."

"Too small?" Cloud repeated, looking him over. "You mean your clothes? Cid's planning a trip out to grab some in the right size."

"No," Loz muttered. "I don't care about those. I mean this." He gestured vaguely and petulantly around them. "There's no room to move. I miss running. And fighting. We only had those two weeks, and it was great, but now it's gone."

"What are they saying?" Cloud heard Kadaj hiss from the next room, obviously trying to keep from being overheard.

"Loz is whining," Yazoo drawled. "As though that will do him any good. Honestly, I set up a perfectly good chance for him to butter up our black sheep, and he goes and tells him the truth. Idiot."

Loz sniffled and ducked his head. Cloud wondered if he'd been listening in on his brothers as well. He eyed the boy, searching for a sign that this was some game or trap. Loz looked cowed if anything. His guileless eyes were lowered to the ground, and his leg was bouncing slightly with anxiety. Cloud took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing his suspicion as best he could.

"I'll think it over,' he said after a moment. "We might be able to work something out."

"Really?" asked Loz after a moment, lifting his head to look at Cloud with confusion written all over his face.

"What the hell?" Cloud heard Yazoo hiss to himself from the next room over.

"Like I said, let me think it over." Cloud responded. "Even prisons have yards, after all. Head on back to bed. Your brothers too."

That night, Cloud waited until he saw the flash of red nearby that meant Vincent was patrolling. He walked outside, closing the door quietly behind himself, and stepped out into the field. It was starting to get truly cold. Winter would be setting in soon. He waited, his hands tapping lightly against his pant legs, until the air shifted around him. He turned to face Vincent, who had appeared behind him silently enough that it was not the noise of his arrival but the air displacement that alerted Cloud to his presence.

"Are you in need of assistance?" Vincent asked from behind his cowl, his voice low and calm.

"Not in need, exactly." Cloud replied giving him a tired half-smile. "More looking for your advice."

"I am always willing to lend my perspective." Vincent replied with a solemn nod.

"I'm thinking of letting them outside now and then," Cloud said after a long moment of trying to phrase the words perfectly and finding no way to do so.

"You should," Vincent replied without hesitation, staring calmly at Cloud.

Silence fell for a moment as Cloud stared at the solemn ex-Turk.

"Seriously?" the blond said after a moment. "That's it? Not even any explanations?"

"You have thus far trusted them not to burn down the house while you slept, poison the food supplies, or destroy your life in other meaningful way. The logical next step is to extend your trust somewhat further and observe their reaction."

Cloud stared at him, then looked away, shaking his head with a sigh. Vincent shifted, and Cloud watched him lift his red eyes towards the sky.

"Do you have any settings in between 'super cryptic' and 'painfully blunt,' Vincent?"

"Yes," Vincent replied. "I can also lie through my teeth, if you would prefer."

"I think I'm good." Cloud muttered. "Alright, then. I'll give it a try."

"You are very secure in your decision all of a sudden," Vincent murmured, his intense gaze returning to Cloud. "Does my opinion mean that much to you?"

"You know it does," Cloud said softly.

"I never did hear back," Vincent said after a long moment. "About how forgiveness turned out for you."

"If this is part of it, then it's turning out to be a huge pain in the ass," Cloud responded. "I don't recommend it."

"I will take that advice under consideration." The tone he spoke the words in made it sound like he might have been smiling behind the cloak. Cloud smiled back.

"Guess I'll get to work marking where they can and can't go, then," he said, turning to the wide lawn surrounded the old farm house. "Best to at least start them out with some restrictions."

"Indeed," Vincent agreed. "I believe Cid has a device which he uses to make chalk outlines on the ground. Perhaps that would come in handy."

"He's probably asleep," Cloud murmured, glancing up at the stars. "It's pretty late. And most people need sleep."

"How very dull of them," Vincent replied with a definite rumble of amusement in his voice. "I will bring it for you."

"Thanks, Vincent," Cloud muttered. "I can't tell you how much it means to know you're backing me up in this."

"You don't have to tell me," Vincent replied, blinking at Cloud from behind guarded but not unkind eyes. "I know exactly. I am only returning the gesture you showed me a long time ago."

Cloud waited for all three remnants to be downstairs before he cleared his throat. Eerie eyes focused on him at once at the noise. The brothers knew the sound of an announcement about to be made by now. Cloud shifted at the attention, but kept his gaze cool and detached.

"There's a new line drawn around the house," he muttered. "You three can go anywhere inside that line. So long as you don't break the rules we already have, you can do whatever you want out there."

"What?" asked Loz, his lips parted in surprise and his eyes widening slowly.

"Outside?" Kadaj's lips quirked in a smile as he spoke the word, and he abandoned his breakfast to go look, his hair flickering silver in the morning light as he stared outside. "That's... That's a big outline!"

"We can go out?" Loz's enthusiasm was instant and absolute. He looked like Cloud had just handed him Christmas. The entirety of Christmas. "We can play outside?"

"So long as you follow the rules." Cloud agreed.

"Come on, Loz!" Kadaj cried, darting out the front door like a bullet.

Loz didn't even bother responding. He bolted after his brother, leaving his half-eaten toast behind him. Only Yazoo remained, staring at Cloud over the glass of water he was holding. His eyes were cold and calculating. Cloud found that he no longer had to resist the urge to shift under that uncanny gaze. He just waited for Yazoo to speak.

"What's your game?" Yazoo muttered. "Are you going to rip your gift away from them to prove a point? Have you set up for some attack on them to test their resolve to your rules?"

"I don't have a game," Cloud replied honestly and briskly.

"Everyone does," Yazoo said blankly, tilting his head with his usual passive, empty expression.

"Maybe I just like watching you squirm while you try to figure it out," Cloud said in reply, pouring himself a cup of tea and wandering over to the window.

Outside Loz was running in gleeful circles around the house while Kadaj tried to pounce on him. It didn't even seem to bother the younger remnant that he was without his usual mako-imbued powers. When he missed his pounces, he just laughed and rolled on the grass. Cloud took a long drink, and felt a little piece of himself relax.

"I will figure this out," Yazoo said behind him, warning in his voice.

"You're the one who asked me for it," Cloud reminded him, glancing back at the eerie remnant.

"To prove to my brothers that you are not our ally," Yazoo said darkly.

"Well," Cloud said mildly, unable to help but feel a little smug. "You might want to think your clever plans through a little further. I think this one backfired."

"What do you get from this?" Yazoo asked.

"It's not about what I get from it," Cloud said mildly, shaking his head. Outside, Loz burst into laughter as he went tumbling across the lawn, tripping himself for fun. Kadaj had risen out of the grass and walked out to the line, following it as though memorizing its place in the grass.

That night, their usually silent dinner was punctuated with bursts of conversation from Loz and Kadaj. Yazoo sat silently as ever, saying nothing. Loz asked questions. 'when can we go out again,' 'how often,' 'can we at night some time?' 'Does this mean you like us?' By the time Cloud sent him and his brothers up to bed, Loz's exhausted silence had completely transformed itself. He seemed delighted.

Cloud cleaned the table off quietly, letting the day percolate. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and wandered into the living room. After a little thought, he decided he could allow himself to eavesdrop after the day they'd just had. He settled into the armchair he preferred and listened. There was silence upstairs for a long time, punctuated with sleepy murmurs and mild rebukes from the brothers to one another as they piled together. For a while, he thought they wouldn't talk at all.

"He's asleep already," Yazoo drawled above Cloud, his words muffled by the floor between them. "What an idiot."

"It's good he got to wear himself out." Kadaj replied with a yawn.

"It is a trap." Yazoo said blankly.

"I paced the perimeter," Kadaj said, his voice lower and more serious. "There's nothing out of place. Not even any disturbed earth. Definitely no land-mines or traps."

"Then he's playing a longer game than that." Yazoo's usually empty voice was almost fierce in the declaration.

"Yazoo, would you relax?" Kadaj asked, yawning again. "He's not a Turk. He doesn't do long-games."

"As if you know for certain," Yazoo muttered.

For a moment there was silence. Cloud took a long drink of his beer, watching the ceiling attentively and waiting for the next words.

"Are you saying you think I made a bad choice, then?" Kadaj asked.

"You made the choice you had," Yazoo's blank voice said into the silence. "I just want you to remember that you have more choices now."

"We stay." Kadaj said. "As for the outside, has it ever occurred to you that maybe he's just that much of a good-guy?"

He said 'good-guy' like it was an insult. Cloud frowned at the ceiling above him.

"He hasn't got a duplicitous bone in his body," Kadaj muttered. "If he did something, he probably meant it. I bet even he isn't certain why. If it was us that had asked, he wouldn't have done it. But Loz is different. You heard what he said about that first night, about Cloud helping him out."

"Go to sleep, brother," Yazoo said instead of answering.

"Avoid it all you like," Kadaj muttered. "He's still our best bet."

Yazoo didn't answer. After fifteen minutes of silence, Cloud stood from where he was sitting and wandered outside to pace the perimeter of the line himself, wondering about what he'd heard. Kadaj had spoken up for his intentions. But he'd also checked the outside for traps and mines. Yazoo... Yazoo he still didn't understand. He was empty and opinionated at once—angry and strangely vulnerable. Loz was the only one who made any sense to Cloud. He wasn't sure he was happy about that, considering Loz's history with Tifa.

But he couldn't help but remember the glee in the remnant's face as he tumbled across the lawn, and he couldn't help the way it made him feel better to have caused it. He pulled out his phone, taking a deep breath before making a call. He got voicemail.

"Irene. It's Cloud Strife. Call me back tomorrow. We'll arrange to get you out here to look them over. Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my apologies for how long this chapter took. This story is still very much alive, and I have a lot planned for what's to come! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and will stick with me for many more to come, even though it takes me way too long to update!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no apologies strong enough for how long this took. Please accept this chapter, and forgive me! I'll do my best to keep it coming from here!

Chapter 7

_Overhead the motor was whirring again. His toes scraped over the ground, digging in, fighting to gain purchase—To stop the relentless slide towards the flames. His wrists were screaming points of pain, attached by cruel metal cuffs to the grinding motor's track on the ceiling._

_The flames before him burned with an ugly blue gas light. With every inch of ground, the heat increased. He could almost feel his skin cracking and peeling away from flesh. He couldn't scream. He was parched dry. His voice had died in his throat long ago. Was it days now? He'd lost track of time._

_The motor dragging him forward cut out at last, leaving him dangling before the fire, closer than ever. He tried to calculate the distance, but he couldn't keep his eyes focused. They were burned dry, unfocused, almost blinded. Every day it had hauled him closer, every time left him there, thinking maybe he would finally die. That maybe it was finally as bad as it could get._

_He should have been glad he was alone. But if he could have screamed, he'd have been screaming for the others—For anyone to share the bright pain of the room. For anyone who could make him feel alive, even for a moment, as he roasted to death._

* * *

Cloud jerked awake from the nightmare, aware suddenly of screaming from down the hall. He was halfway out the door with his sword in hand before he was fully awake and aware of the fact that his nightmare was only that—a nightmare. He paused a moment in the doorway, long enough to hear the familiar sound of the abruptly cut-off scream, muffled by the hand of one of the other remnants. He waited, poised, in case things turned violent. He hadn't had to intervene yet, but he'd heard scuffles break out between the brothers more than once after one of them screamed at night. He wasn't sure if tonight's screaming had been Yazoo or Kadaj—It was difficult to tell them apart, at least in comparison to the easily-identifiable sobbing howls of Loz's nightmares.

Cloud calmed down slowly, listening to the hushed voices from down the hall without focusing enough to hear words. He'd stopped worrying about the nightmares being a ploy. Ever since the first time he'd slammed into their room after hearing screams to find Kadaj tearing at Loz's comforting arms with eyes blinded by fear and absolute desperation he'd known they were real. He tried not to wonder what they were dreaming of.

He lowered his blade, stepping back and letting out a slow breath. His heart was still racing from the nightmare. If he'd been home at 7th Heaven, he would have gone downstairs and done some extra cleaning for Tifa. As it was, trapped as the warden in his own little jail, he sat on the bed with Tsurugi laying over his lap, fingering the edge of the butterfly blade on its side.

It shouldn't have surprised him to have a nightmare. In the morning, he'd be heading to Edge alone. Even leaving the remnants in the most capable hands he knew, it still felt unsettling— like leaving a stove on intentionally. He worried at the inside of his lips with his teeth, anxious and temporarily immobilized. He only stopped when he tasted the iron tang of mako tinted blood.

They'd behaved thus far, but not out of good will Cloud was sure. Since the first barest outline of rules, the list had grown and grown. Now it was thirteen bullet-points long. The remnants still insisted they couldn't read them, so Cloud had made certain they had them memorized. He wasn't sure he believed their illiteracy story, but he wasn't about to put himself in the position of playing the bad guy if they claimed ignorance after breaking his edicts.

He closed his eyes, halfway hoping for guidance from beyond. Aerith and Zack were silent. They had been for a long time. Cloud hoped it was approval and not disappointment that kept them that way. He wanted to believe that he was doing what they would, though he was certain that Zack's good humor and Aerith's kindness would be better suited to this task. He was sure either of them would have had the remnants tamed ages ago.

He let out a slow breath, lying back on top of his bed sheets. He slid his gaze out the window, watching the distant stars in the night sky and waiting for sunrise. He felt the familiar, warm feeling that came with thinking about outer space wash over him. They'd spent so many nights listening to the usually gruff and straight-forward Cid wax poetic about space. Cloud thought fondly of those nights spent lying on his back with Nanaki's head pillowed on his chest and the rest of the party lying still and silent, but unmistakably awake. He remembered the red shine of meteor slowly blotting out the stars, night by night, till even on the Highwind the red light of it cut through closed doors and windows.

A part of him missed that light. Its presence had been a terrible reminder of the impending doom lying just above their planet, but it had also been a sign of purpose the likes of which he'd never known before. It was the force that had brought Avalanche together in the face of unspeakable odds.

Now, quietly lost and unspeakably lonely, Cloud stared out at the safe, calm night sky, and allowed himself to miss the disaster that had turned them all from terrorists into heroes.

* * *

With sunrise came the now-familiar sound of bickering from downstairs. Cloud blinked out of the half-asleep doze he'd fallen into, and sighed at the sound of pans slamming around downstairs. He'd given the remnants permission to cook more out of self-defense than a desire for them to pull their own weight. There were only so many knife-edged remarks on his culinary skills he could take from Yazoo. Eventually he'd decided that letting the remnant cook would require less cleanup than decapitating him.

It did, however, mean that his charges tended to have much nicer breakfasts than Cloud himself did. He'd taken to skipping the meal all together. Superiority was not something he wanted to foster in them. He took a slow breath, stretching out the stiffness that had gathered in his back and shoulders.

_'Weak.'_ A darkly amused voice purred in Cloud's mind.

Downstairs, something broke. Cloud paused for a moment. Hearing voices he was used to, but not the voice that had echoed through his mind just then. Not since the Stigma.

"First," he said quietly to the air, standing and sliding into his sword harness. "If I'm weak, you're weaker. And second," he slid Tsurugi into place at his back, cracking his neck. "If you never had to stretch a sore muscle, then you were even less human than I thought."

Cloud paused, waiting for a rebuttal, but none came. He shrugged, letting himself smirk a little. Even if his verbal sparring opponent was dead, it always felt good to have the last word.

He steeled himself with a slow breath, then walked downstairs. The remnants voices petered out as he approached, and he restrained a sigh. It was to the point that he almost wished they wanted to talk to him. But then, that would never happen.

Kadaj was straightening the turtleneck sweater he'd taken to wearing when Cloud walked in, his eyes cast to the wall. Yazoo was leaning back in the chair next to him, his challenging gaze fixed on Cloud's face. The salve Irene had sent home to look after Kadaj's burns sat nearby. Cloud assumed they were healing well, but ever since Kadaj had gotten his hands on better fitting clothes that would hide the uneven burns on his neck, he had worn them constantly around Cloud.

Loz risked a small smile at Cloud before going back to munching on his breakfast. Cloud was fairly sure it was an egg and spinach sandwich. It smelled delicious, and Cloud resisted the urge to glare at Yazoo in retribution for it. He did, however, glance long enough to watch the slender remnant sliding his fingers down the long scar over his cheek.  
"Good morning." Cloud said into the silence as he moved over to start some water heating.

"Sure." Kadaj muttered, a paragon of sunshine as always.

"It's getting cloudy." Loz replied when Yazoo didn't step in. They always seemed to speak in turns, Cloud had noted. Kadaj got first dibs on speaking, then Yazoo if he had a comment to offer, then Loz would input his opinion. "Not, like you kinds of Cloudy. Just the, um, overcast kind."

"Smooth." Yazoo drawled.

Retorts, it seemed, were fair game between Kadaj and Yazoo, depending on the mood of the room. If Kadaj was angry, he monopolized retorting privileges. Cloud took Yazoo's snide, cold remark as a sign that the youngest remnant wasn't angry, at least.

"It's winter." Cloud said blandly. "It will probably snow before too much longer."

A beat, and Kadaj said nothing. Yazoo heaved a sigh, and Cloud glanced over to watch him lean on one arm on the table.

"I like the snow." He purred mildly. "It's like home. You know—"

"And by home you mean the Northern Crater, I know." Cloud said dryly. "You've used that line before."

"Shit." Yazoo muttered under his breath.

"You'll have to work harder to get under my skin." Cloud chided mildly before freezing, halfway through pouring the coffee grounds into his personal filter.

Was that banter? Was he bantering with a remnant? That was not how things were supposed to go. He cleared his throat sharply, turning back to his task and trying to put the thought from his mind.

"I'm driving back to Edge today." He said into the silence, wondering if Yazoo had been experiencing the same existential discomfort from their short exchange.

"I am not riding in that car with you again." Kadaj snapped at once. "I'm not riding on anything that isn't a motorcycle."

"I'm not exactly eager to listen to your whining and belching all the way to Midgar either." Cloud snapped in reply. "So you're not coming."

Silence, for a moment, and Cloud could feel their fixated attention on the back of his neck. He fought the urge to reach for his sword.

"You're leaving us here." Kadaj said slowly.

"Yes." Cloud poured the hot water, waiting for it to percolate through the coffee grounds. Gods he needed the caffeine after the interrupted night.

"Alone." Kadaj filled in.

Cloud snorted, setting the kettle back on the burner and turning to him with an arched eyebrow.

"There's trusting you to obey the rules and protect your skins, and then there's being an idiot." He said dryly. "I'm not stupid enough to think you three wouldn't manage to worm into trouble or away from me. Vincent's going to watch you."

"The Turk?" Kadaj demanded.

"The demon?" Yazoo supplied, his eyes narrowed.

"We don't like him." Loz finished the trio's thoughts, all of their eyes fixed on Cloud, a lovely set of frustration, annoyance, and concern.

"I don't care if you like him." Cloud waved a hand, turning back to his coffee, waiting for the final pool of hot water to drain through the grounds. "Liking him isn't the point. The point is, he has pretty elegantly proven that he can handle you three, and that he's willing to do so."

"By handle you mean—"

"That he could have a bullet through Kadaj's skull before you two could take him out." Cloud replied with a grim satisfaction. Imagining the remnants failing his standards and being summarily disposed of didn't fill him with the sort of daydreamy longing that it used to, but it still held some satisfaction. Especially when it was followed by muffled, frustrated cursing from the smallest of them.

"And what will you be doing?" Asked Yazoo coldly, usurping the order as he often did when Kadaj was threatened in any way. "Cuddling with your precious family."

"Probably." Cloud turned, his black coffee finally held in hand. He prefered it with cream and sugar, but it looked cooler to drink it black. He assumed. "And then I'm bringing Irene back here."

There was a moment of silence while Kadaj whipped his head back to Cloud from where he'd been glaring at Yazoo, silver hair falling into his face. The middle brother lifted an aristocratic eyebrow while Loz broke into a mild smile.

"I'm fine." Kadaj snarled defensively.

"She was nice." Loz reminded his brother mildly.

"Who the hell is that?" Yazoo asked, glancing between his brothers, obviously displeased to have been left out of the inside circle.

"She's the lady who stitched you up while you were sliced to pieces." Cloud replied mildly, lifting a hand to tap his own cheek to remind Yazoo of his mark. "And the only reason you have just a scar, instead of a pierced cheek."

Yazoo's revolted face was mildly satisfying.

"I don't remember that part." Kadaj muttered. "I had just gotten my brain fried by an idiot."

It was Cloud's turn to look away. He could imagine the triumph in Kadaj's face, and had a brief, abrupt mental image of the young man high-fiving his sullen brother. If they were normal teenagers, maybe. But they were anything but normal.

"Complain all you like." Cloud took a slow sip of gross coffee and leveled his gaze back at the three of them. "Doesn't change reality. I'll be back with her by this evening. I expect you three to have done your share of the chores, and to have behaved for Vincent."

"As if we have a choice." Yazoo muttered.

"Can we still play outside?" Loz whined.

"Do we have to do your stupid reading practice?" Kadaj sneered.

Cloud rolled his eyes skyward and prayed for patience. It arrived in the form of a knock on the door that sounded only twice—businesslike, professional, and decisive.

"Up to your babysitter." He called over his shoulder, smirking at the disgusted sound Yazoo made at his back.

Vincent arched an eyebrow at him when Cloud opened the door, his face hidden behind his usual mantel, but his expression clear.

"Riling them up for me?" he rumbled.

"They're always like this." Cloud replied with a shrug. "I trust your judgement to handle them as you see fit."

"It's not my first circus." Vincent replied, stepping into the house with long, slow steps, and more gravitas than Cloud had ever been able to command. "Go home, Cloud."

"Call me if you need me." Cloud replied, lifting a hand to give Vincent a short, two-fingered salute. "I'll answer for you."

Vincent's reply was to shift his cape to the side, letting Cloud catch a glimpse of the phone strapped to his hip before he walked out of the hallway. Cloud stepped out of the house without another glance, and headed for Cid's. He trusted Vincent completely, and now that the option was there, he couldn't wait to be out of the house and away from his charges. Even if it was only for a little while.

He sipped his coffee while he hiked the distance to Cid's combination home and workshop. He caught himself casting glances back at the house as he went, as though waiting for it to explode, but soon enough it vanished behind the hills.

Cid was waiting for him with the truck's keys and a heaping helping of sarcasm. Cloud bore his snide comments and invasive questions with the ease of long practice, but he did so while climbing into the car and stowing his sword and coffee. He was ready to be on the road. He desperately wanted to get there in time to have a while with Tifa and the kids. He missed his little family, whatever it was. He knew he was doing the right thing in keeping a handle on the remnants, but that didn't make it easy.

He drove off while Cid was still yelling at him about how frustrating he was, but it was with a smile and a wave, and he could tell that the pilot's cursing was affectionate, because his face was just red and not the wild, vein-straining purple shade it turned when he was really angry. Then it was just him and the road, and though he wasn't great at stickshifts, cars never bothered him so long as he was the one driving.

He turned on the radio, and turned it up till it overpowered the rumbling of the engine. It would only have been better if he'd been on his motorcycle. The freedom was heady, and warm and—  
 _He lifted his head to the wind, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply. Freedom smelled like dusty sands overheated by the sun and the exhaust of a ratty old truck, and the clinging smell of mako that still stuck to Cloud no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. But it was freedom, and he loved it, and for a moment he was at peace._

Cloud shook the thoughts away, catching a breath and shifting gears when he realized he'd let the truck slow down too much. Zack's memories again. Ever since he'd stood in that room with Tseng… Was it only three weeks ago now? Cloud frowned. So recent, and yet it felt like so much time had passed. The memory of that room, and the choking smell of sweat and blood rose, and he shook it off, reminding himself that Kadaj needed no pity and no help now. He was fine.

Or as fine as he deserved to be, at least.

He breathed slow through the trip. None of this was what he was built for. He was made to fight, and though for a while he'd waited eagerly for the fighting to stop, now he found that he missed it. Maybe he could pick up some monster hunting work soon. After all, he would need a supplemental income soon enough. His savings would only last him so far. Now that he was off the WRO payroll, the mercenary life might be his best bet. It had certainly led him to interesting places the last time he tried it.

He felt his heart leap when he passed the first proper sign stretched over the deserted highway proclaiming that he was approaching Edge. He'd missed the ramshackle city. He hadn't realized how homesick he was until he just then. In a way, until he'd left, he hadn't realized that he thought of Edge as home.

The warm feelings froze when he recognized the helicopter sitting on the road before him, and the figure standing before it, clad in white. He stood with his legs apart, his hands crossed confidently before him, his blonde hair perfectly slicked back, one elegant strand falling into his face.

Rufus Shinra. He should have known.

For a moment, Cloud strongly considered just plowing into him. It would serve him right, standing in the middle of the road as though he owned it. Though knowing Rufus Shinra, he might actually own the road. There was no telling with his family

Cloud glanced to either side of the helicopter as he slowed the truck to a stop, popping the door open and stepping out into the street. Tseng and Elena flanked the chopper, and in the pilots seat Cloud could see Reno, drumming his fingers on the equipment panel. Cloud couldn't spot Rude, but he was certain he was there. Probably readying a rocket launcher in the body of the chopper. Cloud grabbed his sword as he left the cab of the truck, slinging it easily into the harness on his back. Rufus's calm, superior gaze didn't waver even for a moment. The young president didn't even flinch. He might have been an asshole, but Cloud couldn't accuse him of being a coward.

"Rufus." Cloud acknowledged, walking forward without hesitation.

"Cloud." Rufus held still, letting Cloud approach without moving. "You look well."

"You've dropped the wheelchair act, I see." Cloud replied coldly, stopping a solid seven feet from where Rufus was standing.

"Hardly an act. It's not as though the stigma and the explosion left me entirely unharmed."

"I don't care." Cloud waved a hand between them. "Tell me what you want and get out of my way."

"There's no need to be hostile." Rufus commented, one hand dropping to the side while his other stroked over his own chin lightly, halfway hiding his smirk. "We're hardly enemies, Cloud."

"I'd like to think I made myself perfectly clear about my stance on you the last time we talked." Cloud said, shifting so that one foot was in front of the other, side-eyeing Rufus from a position where he could see Tseng more clearly. The Turk wasn't looking at him, and his hands were loose at his sides. It was the perfect 'I don't care' pose. Cloud didn't trust it for a minute

"The last time we talked, I was trying to make sure you wouldn't join with us." Rufus said with a chuckle. "Don't tell me you missed that."

"If that was you trying to drive me away, you could have gone about it a lot more directly." Cloud said blandly, lifting one hand to rest on his sword in a clear threat.

Rufus actually had the audacity to laugh. A low chuckle, paired with him tucking his chin, narrowing his bright eyes and parting his lips in a wicked grin.

"I wasn't trying to drive you away." Rufus chuckled. "Just to get your blood boiling. And it did work, didn't it. In the end, you sided with us perfectly. Played right into my hand, and took up arms against the remnants."

"I'd have done that without you." Cloud narrowed his eyes. "Get to the point before I end our discussion more permanently."

"Empty threats." Rufus said with a wave of his hand.

The ex-president stepped out of his firm stance and strode forward easily. The sound of metal reached Cloud's ears, and he glanced to Rufus's legs, watching the stiff motion. Leg braces, he wondered, narrowing his gaze on him a moment before flicking his eyes back up to meet Rufus's gaze. He didn't take his hand off his sword, but he didn't draw it either.

"I want to talk about them." Rufus purred. "I understand why you ran off like that, Cloud. If anyone has a reason to be uneasy with torture, it's you. It was a miscalculation to bring you in on their treatment. Not a call I would have made, but I assume Reeve had his own reasons to want you there."

"I had my own reasons to be there." Cloud corrected. "Reeve doesn't approve any more than you do."

"It's beside the point now." Rufus said with a wave of his hand. "You took them, and you have as much right to do so as anyone. But Cloud, I want you to see things from my perspective."

"I don't think it's possible." Cloud scowled at him as darkly as he could, shifting into a stronger stance. "I could never be as selfish as a Shinra."

"No?" Rufus smiled in response. "What if I told you it wasn't selfishness?"

"You would be hard pressed to prove it."

"Look at this world, Cloud." Rufus murmured, his voice pitched suddenly lower, suddenly intimate. The smile fell away, leaving him unusually serious. Cloud blinked, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the change. "It is alive, certainly, and that much was uncertain for a while. But what world are we leaving behind us in the wake of all this pain? There are so many children with no one to turn to, and so many of those we could have turned to died when the planet stopped meteor. How many people over forty years old have you seen since meteor fell?"

"Cut to the chase." Cloud said grimly. He didn't need Rufus telling him. He knew that the planet had taken the lives of older people first, as though trying to spare the children of the world. He'd have known it from Denzel's story even if Reeve hadn't shown him the statistics.

"We are this world's leaders now." Rufus took another half step forward, invading Cloud's space just a touch, pressing him. "It's up to us to decide what life we leave for those who come after us."

"And this has something to do with me." Cloud prompted, refusing to back down from the intimidating blond with his ice-blue eyes.

"You're leaving the WRO to be a prison guard." Rufus replied dryly. "The hero of our planet, relegated to guarding three beings who hate him more than anyone else in the world. You could be doing so much good, Cloud. I know you won't join me, but Reeve has proven himself to you, hasn't he? Even Vincent works for them now. I hear Barrett's considering joining their payroll as well. It's practically Avalanche 2.0. And yet, you hover in Rocket Town, once again stuck doing nothing."

The worst part about talking to Rufus Shinra was that the bastard was always right. As little as Cloud wanted to listen, every word that came out of his mouth was true. He clenched his jaw, eyes narrowed, watching for the catch. For the moment that would change his mind. He didn't let it shake him that Rufus knew they were in Rocket Town. He'd expected that. Rufus would have name dropped the house if he'd known they were there. Tseng shifted in the periphery of Cloud's vision, and he took a slow breath, finding what he'd been waiting for.

"So you want me to give them back." He said blandly. "Let your Turks torture them."

"They would be reaping only what they have sown." Rufus replied with a slow smile. "Or hasn't Vincent told you what they did to Elena and Tseng."

"As if Elena and Tseng themselves are guiltless." Cloud said darkly. "I'm not interested in an eye for an eye, Rufus. And I'm not interested in your form of justice."

"Oh?" Rufus raised an eyebrow. "And your version of justice is so much clearer?"

"I haven't forgotten what Shinra did to my friends." Cloud stepped forward this time. He wasn't tall enough to loom, but he pressed Rufus's space, and watched the other man's eyes narrow in challenge and response. "I haven't forgotten Scarlett trying to execute Tifa live on television. I haven't forgotten how you tried to blame us for Meteor and Sephiroth. Your justice has nothing to do with what's right, and everything to do with what benefits you."

"What benefits me might benefit you, this time." Rufus purred, not bothering to deny Cloud's words. "Might benefit those children too. If you return them, I'd even grant you a finders fee. For your trouble, of course. I don't want to be your enemy in this, Cloud."

"Then don't get in my way." Cloud snapped.

"Not an option." Rufus bit back. "I won't let those monsters go free to take this world again. I'm not the man I was, Cloud. The tower's collapse—the stigma—They changed me."

"Assuming that you really don't want to see your Turks get killed." Cloud let the mako flare in his eyes, watched Rufus glare in response. "I would recommend you get into your chopper and fly away. Right now, before this escalates and someone gets hurt."

He flicked a pointed look to Tseng and Elena. He could hear Rufus grinding his teeth. A part of him was surprised at the reaction. It was almost like the man actually cared.

"Have it your way." Rufus said softly. "But remember that I offered you a peaceful resolution to this."

"Trust me, Shinra." Cloud turned his back on the other man, striding back towards his car. "You're not fooling anyone here but yourself with the innocent act."

"Perhaps not." Rufus said behind him. "I'm sure we'll meet again soon, Strife."

Cloud jammed the truck into gear the moment he was inside, and swerved off the road instead of waiting for the chopper to take off. Elena's wide eyes followed him every moment, and the blame in them was piercing. He tried not to think on it.

His sense of peace gone, Cloud watched the helicopter take off in the rear view mirror, and drove at last into Edge proper, heading for 7th Heaven and trying not to let Rufus's blame gnaw too deeply at him. He forced himself to remember his reasons—Kadaj's trembling sweat-drenched form and heart-rending pleas, Yazoo's blood soaked body and gory scars, Loz's broken hands and tear filled eyes. And yet the memory of Denzel's corruption and Marlene's fear rose in counterpoint, reminding him vividly of how deeply afraid his kids still were of the pieces of Sephiroth who had tried to take them from their home.

He parked behind the bar, and put his head in his hands, trying to breathe through it all. It was a no-win situation, and he knew it. No matter what he did from here, someone would be hurt more than he could bear.


End file.
